Umbrella
by sitarra
Summary: Finally complete with chapter 7! "Stand with me, Joseph." "Always, Clarisse."
1. June 9, 1963

**Title:** Umbrella

**Author:** sitarra

**Rating:** no clue but not R

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, as usual. The title belongs to Rihanna from her song 'Umbrella' off of her Good Girl Gone Bad album. I used exerts from that song as well. All songs used in this story are not my own. Please don't sue.

The summary is from 'Cowboy Up' by Jill Johnson from her album The Woman I've Become. Also, I was inspired by a moment of Murphy Brown in season four, episode Birth 101, when she gives birth to her son. I don't own the concept.

I highly recommend all the songs mentioned.

**Summary:** 'Who is willing and brave enough and not afraid to cowboy up?'

**A/N:** This story is a companion piece to "Mercy on Me." There will be one more that follows this one. Think of them like "Pirates of the Caribbean;" one is a little before 2 and 3 but 2 and 3 are back to back.

The years in this story are 1963, 1964, 1968, 1969, 1986, 2001, 2002, and 2007.

IMPORTANT: Once again, please pay attention to all DATES and TIMES. It is important because if you don't, you will get confused. And please, if you don't read songs in stories, please DO. It's important to understand the vibe of the story.

This story is in a different fashion than Mercy on Me. It'll start off in the present but then move to flashbacks and go back and forth throughout the entire story. Also, some dates from Mercy on Me don't match this story. I'm aware but I don't feel like going back again and fixing everything.

ANOTHER IMPORTANT NOTE: Princess Diaries 2 NEVER happened. It's just easier that way and I don't buy the whole story that Clarisse would be forced to step down or that she would do it so early. That's based on how pretty much every monarchy works.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Welcome to the greatest show, greatest show on earth you've never seen before. Here the fairytale unfolds. What's behind the smoke and glass, painted faces? Everybody wears a mask.

"You're riding on a shooting star with a smile on your face, but soon the shine fades. And you're left out all alone wonderin' 'where did they all go?'"

*** **

*** **

June 9, 2007 -- Genovian Palace

Charlotte thanked the delivery man as he dropped off the package. The man tipped his hat and smiled toothily at the younger woman when he received his tip.

Charlotte knew without looking at the card who the delivery belonged to.

*** **

"I suggest you spend your time wisely this summer, Mia," Clarisse was telling her granddaughter as Charlotte entered the room. "There is still much you need to learn and I will be very busy this month."

"But it's summer, grandma," Mia argued. "I have a short attention span during summer."

Clarisse shot her granddaughter a warning look. Mia was quick to respond.

"But for you, I'll do my best." Charlotte entered Mia's view with the delivery. "Ooh, those are pretty."

Charlotte set the vase of English violets down on Clarisse's desk. "These just arrived, your Majesty."

Clarisse let a small smile grace her lips as she pulled the card. She opened it and wrote something on it before placing the card in a desk drawer. Curiosity got the best of Mia.

"Who are they from, grandma?" She moved closer to investigate.

Clarisse had returned to her work as though nothing had happened.

"That's none of your business." Somehow, a tiny smile was on the edge of her lips. That didn't go unnoticed by Mia.

"Ooh, I think someone has a secret admirer," she teased. Clarisse only hummed and continued to look busy.

Charlotte chose then to intervene. "Your Majesty, Parliament begins in fifteen minutes."

Clarisse looked down at her watch and was startled to see the time. "Thank you, Charlotte. I suppose I'd better be heading over there, then. Mia…"

"I'll get busy," she said, already aware of what her grandmother was going to tell her.

Clarisse smiled and said, "Thank you. I'll see you later." And with that, she was out the door.

Mia quickly turned to her grandmother's aide. "What's the deal with the flowers?"

Having long given in to the teenager, Charlotte barely flinched at the question.

"For as long as I've worked here, the queen receives a vase of English violets every June ninth," she explained all she knew. "And no, I don't know who they're from."

Mia's mouth gapped open, her question still on the tip of her tongue. She still looked contemplative.

"Don't bother asking, Mia," Charlotte advised. "She won't tell you and you know it."

"But you know I can't resist a challenge." Charlotte's look remained firm. "All right. Well, grandma said I should become familiar with Genovian history. What's the best way to learn about Genovia?"

"The palace library and news archives," Charlotte answered with no thought. "There is certainly plenty at your disposal. Though I can't say that everything's in order."

Mia nodded and began to head towards the door. "Thanks, Charlotte."

*** **

Meanwhile, Clarisse still had her mind on the English violets.

Every year for the past forty-four years, she had received those same precious flowers on the eve of her wedding anniversary. Only one person knew the attachment behind those flowers. Well, one living person. She doubted her father was sending her flowers from beyond the grave.

That one person continued to keep their oath.

*** **

*** **

Everything's changing

But you're the truth

I'm amazed by all your patience

Everything I put you through

*** **

*** **

June 9, 1963 -- the lake

Clarisse absentmindedly threw rocks into the late. Her whole life would change tomorrow. She would be the wife of a prince and next in line for the throne. So much more would be expected of her.

And she wasn't sure if she could do it.

Her feet told her to run. Her mind told her to stay. Her heart was in turmoil.

She had a duty to so many people, her country included, but she wanted to throw that away.

She only wanted to have a duty to one person.

Clarisse sighed heavily and heaved the rest of the rocks towards the lake. They each landed with a loud plunk.

"I never should have met him," she told herself aloud. "If I hadn't, this wouldn't be so difficult."

"But if you hadn't, then you wouldn't have made me the happiest man alive during our short time together," came a voice from behind her.

Clarisse turned around, losing her footing as she did. She didn't know if she was more startled by another presence or the fact that he actually spoke to her.

He handed her an English violet. She accepted it automatically.

"Joseph," she breathed.

He smiled, not surprised by her shock. When he'd last seen her, he walked out on her vowing to never again speak to her. However, as he'd later told her, the pull of her was simply too strong.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him, slowly walking towards him. "I thought you joined the army."

"I did but I don't leave for a few months yet," he explained. "I wanted to see you one last time before you officially belong to someone else."

She had approached him by this time and dared herself to take his hand. "I'll never belong to someone else," she vowed to him, her eyes staring straight into his.

He didn't bother to say anything.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked.

"Richard told me you weren't at home and this was always the spot we came to," he explained. "I have a feeling he wants me to talk you out of tomorrow."

"Well, don't you?" Clarisse blurted out. She soon realized her error and began to correct herself. "I mean… well, not to say that… you don't…"

"Calm down, Clarisse," Joseph laughed. It wasn't often that he saw her flustered. "I know what you mean."

She showed a faint smile but avoided his eyes. She *did* want to be talked out of it. She wanted Joseph to say he needed her too much and that he was going to take her away from all of this. They would start their life together somewhere with their own house and their own land…

"If I knew it was the right thing," Joseph continued, breaking Clarisse from her thoughts, "I would attempt to talk you out of it."

She looked up at him. "It's not the right thing?" Her brow creased in confusion.

"Despite what you think, you *have* made up your mind."

She pushed away from him in disgust.

"You sound just like my father. He said the same thing to me the other day."

"Clarisse, think about it," he pleaded with her. He stepped closer to her and found her hands once more. "I'd convince you otherwise if I thought you would listen. If I managed to convince you and we ran off together, you would feel guilt the rest of your life."

"Like I'm not feeling guilt now?" she asked him rhetorically. Her eyes flared at the assumption. "I've deceived you and now I fear I could never possibly love Rupert, the man I'm supposed to be marrying tomorrow. That is guilt I shall live with the rest of my life. Don't tell me of guilt."

Joseph brought his hands up to cup her face. He wondered if she was aware of what she'd just told him. "Forgive me, Clarisse."

He could see the tears in her eyes and knew she didn't want him to see that. But he refused to let her break eye contact.

"I didn't come here to upset you," Joseph murmured.

"You haven't upset me," Clarisse sniffed.

Joseph pressed his forehead to hers and said, "Liar." At that, Clarisse cracked a smile.

"I'll have to get better at it, then," she concluded. Even if she did, she knew he would always be the one person that could see right through her.

Her smile soon disappeared and her tone grew serious. "Why did you come here?"

"To give you my best wishes and tell you that no matter how much it kills me to let you go, I know it's the right thing."

Her brow creased but she said nothing. He continued.

"You have the opportunity to go on and become someone great, Clarisse. You have the opportunity to change Genovia and her people," he explained. He'd given it a lot of though since he last saw her. She had a chance to become a wonderful human being. And the chance to have more than he could ever give her. "I'm not about to take that away from you, Clarisse."

A tear escaped from her blue eyes. "But I'll lose you if you don't."

"You'll never lose me, Clarisse," he promised, his voice cracking as he said it.

Around them, the wind picked up as dark clouds rolled in. if they felt the rain, neither one acknowledged it.

"Promise me, Joseph," she demanded. She clutched at his arms, holding him firmly in place.

"I will always be here for you, to talk to, to complain to. Nothing could ever break my loyalty to you," he vowed. They both blinked through the falling rain. "I made a promise to you when I first met you and I intend not to break it. Do you remember that promise?"

Thunder clapped around them and lightening illuminated their faces but they didn't notice.

"You said that no matter what the future brought we would always remain friends," she recalled with ease. "Distance could never separate us, only make our love grow stronger."

"I also promised to love you forever," Joseph added, his voice growing soft. "I have not broken any of my promises. At least, I hope I haven't."

Clarisse shook her head. Rain water poured down her face and flattened her hair. Her dress stuck to her but she didn't care. Come tomorrow, she wouldn't receive the chance to do this again.

"You haven't," she assured.

Taking a chance, he leaned in closer to her. His lips tentatively touched to hers, gauging her reaction before he tried anything further. Allaying his fears, she held tight to him. She responded to his kiss, kissing him back eagerly. Her emotions were running on high. She wanted all of him, all the time. But she knew that could not be. He was right; she did have an amazing opportunity in front of her.

But she truly wished she didn't.

"I will always love you, Clarisse," Joseph murmured when they parted. "Always. And I will always be your shoulder to lean on matter what. Day or night, just call and I can be here."

"I can't ask that of you."

"You're not asking; I'm offering. You're a part of me now, Clarisse. If I can't be your lover, then I will be your friend. I will always be looking out for you, protecting you."

She looked at him with watery eyes. She'd never met a man so sweet before, so… selfless. Perhaps she was right; Richard should have never introduced them. Joseph was simply too sweet to let go.

Slowly, she smiled. "Then I shall let you protect me."

*** **

*** **

So go on and let the rain pour

I'll be all you need and more

*** **

*** **

Disclaimer: Songs in this chapter are 'Save Me from Myself' by Christina Aguilera from her album Back to Basics Disc Two and 'Umbrella' by Rihanna from her album Good Girl Gone Bad.


	2. August 4, 1964

Disclaimer: Song used in this chapter are 'Natural Woman' by Aretha Franklin from her album Lady Soul

June 9, 2007 -- Palace Library

Mia groaned when she saw the amount of newspaper articles. To her, it looked stacked sky high.

'Well, I have at least a month to go through and read all of these,' Mia thought to herself.

Hesitantly, she sat down at one of the long oak tables. She began to sort through the articles and papers according to year. After that, by month. Then came the tedious task of arranging them by week and day of whichever month. By the time Mia looked at her watch, only a few hours had gone by. It was barely time for lunch!

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. She had already seen a few headlines that had caught her eye. It was interesting seeing over fifty years of Genovian history pass before her eyes in only a few hours.

She started in the sixties, when her grandparents had gotten married. She had seen the pictures before in the throne room and family photo albums. It was different to see them in the newspaper. Her grandma still looked as beautiful as ever in her gown. Her grandfather looked rather handsome in his tuxedo. He had numerous metals on but Mia had no clue what they meant.

Mia flipped through the pages, pausing every once in a while to read an article. Genovia's crime rates were at an all time low by the end of 1963. A fire had started in the center of Pyrus, only to be put out by her loving citizens. The pear harvest was the most beautiful than even in June of 1964. The throne saw its first heir from the prince and princess. There was a minor… Wait a minute!

Mia flipped back to the previous paper's front page. 1964? That was only a year after her grandma had gotten married. She had only been… nineteen years old!

"Wow, I guess Parliament really does place a lot of pressure on you," Mia muttered to herself. Clarisse had told her of the pressures Parliament placed on the throne. Providing an heir, getting married…

'_Heir Born; Queen Rushed to Hospital'_

*** **

*** **

August 4, 1964 -- Hospital

"How are you feeling, Clarisse?" Ted Wells, her father, asked her as they sat in her hospital room. She inhaled slowly as her latest contraction released its hold on her.

She turned her head to meet his eyes. "Scared," she admitted. 'And lonely.' But she kept that part to herself. "What if I'm not a good mother? What if my baby hates me?"

Ted laughed. "Your child will love you," he assured her. She doubted herself too much sometimes. "And you will be the perfect mother. How could you not be? I taught you well."

Clarisse smiled and squeezed her father's hand tightly. "Yes, you did."

Her grip tightened even more when another contraction hit.

"Breath slow, darling," Ted softly advised. Chances were she wasn't listening to him. She had already heard him say it a hundred times.

The doctor walked in then. "Your Highness, I would say it's time for you to have this baby," he said by way of greeting. He had been in the hallway when her previous contraction had hit. No, it certainly wouldn't be long now.

"Already?" Clarisse tried to say that sarcastically but even she could hear her nerves in her voice. The doctor smiled.

"It's too late for nerves, your Highness."

"He's right, Clarisse," Ted agreed. "Marie will be with you the entire time. And I'll be in the waiting room with your brothers."

He could see the fear in her eyes. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. He smoothed down her hair from her forehead and looked into her eyes.

"You'll do just fine, my dear, and this baby will love you beyond all possibilities," he whispered to her.

Looking at her father, she believed him.

*** **

A baby's cry filled the small room, causing relief for its mother and joy for the rest of the women in the room.

"Well?" Clarisse said breathlessly. She'd collapsed back onto the pillows. Marie was patting her forehead with a cold cloth.

"It's a boy!" one of the nurses exclaimed.

Marie could barely contain her excitement.

"Oh, Clarisse, I'm so happy for you. I only wish Rupert was here to see his son."

"I told him to go to Japan," Clarisse told her. "It was imperative that he go and neither one of us thought I would go into labor this soon."

Clarisse's expression grew to one of content when she saw her baby boy. Her smile was tired and the stress from her body had been lifted. She couldn't even begin to describe her elation. Her baby boy had finally come. Her life was complete. Her mind was at ease.

She managed to wait patiently enough to see her newborn. Marie, still beside her, continued to praise Clarisse but Clarisse barely heard a word of it. She was too busy listening to the sweet sound of her son's hungry cries.

"He's very healthy, your Highness," the main nurse said, a smile on her face as well. She placed the wrapped bundle in his mother's arms. He was still crying but no one seemed to mind. "We'll leave the two of you alone for a few minutes."

Clarisse barely looked up from her son's face. "Thank you, all of you."

After placing a kiss on her daughter-in-law's forehead, Marie followed the nurses, shutting the door behind her. Clarisse barely registered the change.

She unwrapped the blanket to count her son's fingers and toes. His increased cries told her he didn't care for the change in room temperature so she quickly wrapped him back up. His cries grew quiet as he slowly became accustomed to the touch of his mother.

"I can't believe you're actually here, my sweet baby boy," Clarisse whispered in amazement.

He batted his fists in the air. His eyes remained closed but to her it seemed he was listening intently.

"I have to confess something but you have to promise it will stay between the two of us." He made a small whine and continued to move his hands and feet. "I'll take that as a yes.

"Now, I won't be the perfect mother. I'll be learning as I go, really. I didn't really have the best mother growing up, but she tried her best most of the time. Luckily, I'll have Marie, your grandmother, there to guide me. She's a wonderful woman. Anyway, though you are of royal blood, I want you to grow up like a normal little boy.

"But I'll undoubtedly make the mistake of spoiling you too much. As will your father."

Her son made another small cry. The sound made Clarisse smile. She had never heard anything sound so sweet.

"Yes, your father. He's in Japan right now. Their emperor has never met him before and we do a good deal of business with Japan. It's important to be on good terms with them. He so very much wanted to be here to meet you. He's been so excited through this entire process. He's a fine man, my darling, and you'll learn so much from him. He's very kind and caring. I hope you will share his qualities. Most of them, at least."

She paused to observe him for a moment. He had started to squint his closed eyes. She pushed up the white cotton hat he had on and ran a finger over his smooth head. His hair was light and his complexion fair.

"I have to say that you'll resemble me when you grow up," Clarisse mused aloud. He squeaked this time and slowly began to open his eyes. Blue met blue as one smiled. "Well, hello there. You have very pretty eyes, my little one."

His tiny hand found one of her fingers and held on tight. The strings around her heart pulled harder.

"I have to warn you, I'll probably make a lot of mistakes," she continued on. "But just know that no matter how mad I make you someday or how mad you make me, I'll always love you and support you. I want you to be happy and… and grow up normal with no stigma of being royal. That's impossible but I have to say that it's not always so fun to have to live so properly. I will do my best to provide a normal atmosphere for you. And to keep my mistakes under… say five hundred."

The bundle in her arms cooed at her. Clarisse didn't think it was possible for her smile to grow. But it did. She didn't even notice the wetness of her tears on her face.

"Are we bonding yet, Pierre?"

Pierre kicked his legs free of the blanket.

Clarisse chuckled.

"I think we are."

*** **

*** **

Now I'm no longer doubtful

Of what I'm living for

And if I make you happy

I don't need to do more

*** **

*** **

"She might be sleeping, but I think she'll be happy to see you," Ted said to the man beside him.

"I just have to see her," the man said. "I promised her I'd be here."

*** **

Clarisse had just finished burping Pierre when there was a knock at her hospital door.

"Come in," she called out. She settled her son in her arms, rocking him gently to sleep. She looked up when the door opened, smiling when she saw her father.

"Good morning, Clarisse. How are the two of you doing today?" Ted asked, staying just inside the cracked door.

"We're doing just fine, dad," she assured cheerily. "Why don't you come in and keep me company?"

Ted smiled. "Uh, no. There's someone else here to keep you company for a little while."

Clarisse watched as her father stepped away from the door. It was a moment before she saw anyone. Who could possibly be with him?

The air left her body when the man came through the door.

"I told you I'd be here for you," he said.

"Joseph."

He shut the door behind him and stepped closer to her.

"How did you know…?" She couldn't find the words to finish her sentence. This man was truly amazing.

"Richard told me and I occasionally speak to your father," Joseph admitted. "They keep me in touch with everything."

"I didn't realize," she said, then mentally slapped herself. She couldn't come up with more intelligent things to say? Or form longer sentences?

He had reached her bedside, his eyes on the small blue bundle in her arms. A child with another man, but he was still in awe. He always knew that any child of hers would be absolutely adorable.

Clarisse noticed his gaze and smiled despite herself. No one could resist staring and cooing at her child. Every nurse in the hospital came to visit him everyday.

"Joseph," she called his attention. "I'd like you to meet Stefan Alexander Pierre."

"Nice to meet you," Joseph said to Pierre, who chose that moment to let out a big yawn. The adults chuckled. "I see he already takes after you."

"Yes, I suppose he does," Clarisse agreed, her smile wide and at ease. It was never difficult to speak of her son. "We've been bonding a lot."

Joseph stretched out a hand to Pierre, who took it with no hesitation. Years later, Joseph would swear he stopped breathing for a few minutes. Pierre squeezed tight as all babies did.

Clarisse closely watched Joseph.

"Do you want to hold him?" she asked quietly, hoping that he would. He looked up, a little startled.

"Are you sure?"

Clarisse chuckled. "Joseph, I trust you with my life, and in turn, my son's," she reminded him.

Joseph swallowed, trying to force moisture down his dry throat.

"Well, I have to warn you that I don't have much experience in this area," he warned. Slowly, cautiously, he accepted Pierre from Clarisse. Remembering from his youth, he cradled Pierre's head in the crook of his left elbow.

"You're a natural," Clarisse told him. He chuckled weakly. Truth was, he was beyond nervous but he wasn't about to let her see that.

"Hello, Pierre," Joseph said to the infant. Pierre looked up with sleepy eyes at the strange new man. "I want you to promise me that you'll be good for your mama as your grow. She'll have enough stress on her soon enough."

Pierre lifted an arm while he yawned and closed his eyes.

"I take it that means that you won't be good," Joseph chuckled. Clarisse watched the two intently. He felt her eyes but dared not look at her. Not yet.

"Well, don't be too difficult. She's gotten enough of that from her brothers," he continued. He took hold of Pierre's hand as he spoke to Clarisse. "You did good, Clarisse. He's beautiful."

Clarisse smiled. "Everyone says he looks like me."

"He does," Joseph agreed, finally looking up to meet her eyes. "As I said, he's beautiful."

Clarisse didn't know how to respond. Inside of her was still the woman - no, the still growing young woman - that was madly in love with her brother's friend. That person was still fresh beneath the surface waiting to emerge after becoming fed up with the lie that was becoming her life.

But now she had Pierre.

Her son was now her life, her reason for getting up the next day, her reason for breathing. It didn't matter if her child was with a man she wasn't in love with. Pierre was the bane of her existence, had been since she found out she was expecting. Rupert's reaction to the news had been encouraging; perhaps there was hope for love after all. But she knew her heart would always belong to only her child.

And Joseph.

Nothing could stop her love with him, not even death.

She would simply have to keep that as her dirty little secret.

*** **


	3. April 7, 1968

Disclaimer: Song used in this chapter is 'Natural Woman' by Aretha Franklin from her album Lady Soul.

*** **

June 9, 2007 -- Palace Library

Mia returned to her seat in the library with the Renaldi family photo album. There were many to choose from but she only took the one from the beginning of her grandparent's marriage.

She began flipping through the pages until she found the one of her Uncle Pierre as a baby. She smiled; her grandma looked so happy with her newborn son in her arms. She looked relaxed, serene.

Mia flipped through more pages, going through her uncle's early stages of childhood. She was amazed at the looks on her grandparent's faces. She'd never met her grandfather before but he didn't seem like the type who expressed emotion easily or often. Charlotte had told her that his true persona had only come out around his wife and sons. Very few had actually seen him without a serious expression on his face. Joseph had verified Charlotte's words. As close aides to the king and queen, the two had infrequently seen sincere emotion from the late king. It was becoming obvious, though, as Mia flipped through the photos that he was quite proud of his family.

Mia returned her attention to the newspaper articles. Nothing much happened in the next few years. Balls thrown by the king and queen-Mia's great-grandparents-Prince Pierre had his first birthday party, a scandal that Mia later found was disproved, new measures were being taken to protect the royal family after a series of threats, the princess was expecting again.

Mia stopped. There was a picture with the headline. Her grandparents, only in their twenties in 1968, looked happy as they strolled down a busy city street. The caption stated they were in London for a meeting with the queen.

"Odd time to choose to announce your pregnancy," Mia stated aloud.

Mia skimmed through the pages until she found the right one.

'_Genovia Rejoices with Arrival of Another Prince'_

_*** **_

_*** **_

April 7, 1968 -- Hospital

"Why is this one taking so long?" Clarisse moaned as the contraction left her body. "Pierre practically shot out compared to this one."

Rupert laughed from beside her. To him, this being the first birth he ever witnessed, the process was moving along quickly. He didn't know it would be quite so painful for his wife, though.

"Darling, he'll come out when he's ready," Rupert told her, smoothing the hair back from her forehead. "Just try to relax some."

"You try relaxing with a child waiting to be shoved out of a very small area," Clarisse snapped at him.

'Thank God mother warned me of this,' he thought. Marie had thought it wise to warn her son of the emotions of a delivering woman.

"It's impossible to get comfortable," he heard Clarisse continue, "and where is my father?"

"He's on his way," he assured. "He'll be here in plenty of time. Do you want anymore ice?"

Clarisse shook her head. She inhaled sharply as she felt the next contraction coming. They were still spaced far apart, letting Clarisse know it would be a while longer for her discomfort. Still, she humored Rupert as he kept an eye on his watch. She continued to forget that he hadn't been there for Pierre's birth, and he was certainly making up for that now.

He was a wonderfully attentive father, always there for Pierre whenever needed. Rupert made sure everyone knew that his family came first. Clarisse often had to force him to go on business meetings outside of the palace.

Their relationship was evolving nicely. Clarisse had grown to care deeply for her husband. He was practically everything a wife could ask for: caring, thoughtful, a terrific father. He asked for her opinion on Parliament and business matters. He sincerely cared what she thought.

But she still wasn't in love with him.

Oh, there were times when she thought, and hoped, she did. But then she would receive her vase of English violets every year, and she would feel the surge of emotions violently coming back from her youthful indiscretion to rain upon her.

She would remember where her heart truly lay.

She knew how Rupert felt about her and it made her ashamed to know she didn't whole-heartedly return those feelings. But she would look into her son's eyes and realize that she must try. For her son, she had to try.

"Rupert, where's Pierre?"

"He's with mom and dad in the waiting room. Do you want to see him?"

"Yes, just for a moment."

Rupert nodded and hurried off to retrieve his son. He couldn't fathom why she wanted to see him while she was in her current condition.

But what his wife wanted, his wife got.

He returned in short time with his son in his arms. Pierre cried happily when he saw his mother and Clarisse couldn't help but to share his joy.

"Hello, my darling," she greeted her firstborn. "Are you behaving for grandma and grandpa?"

Rupert placed Pierre on the bed at his wife's insistence. He pulled a chair close and sat on the other side of Pierre.

"I drew a picture for you but it's not finished yet," Pierre told her.

"You did?" Clarisse's eyes lit up. "Well, I can't wait to see it."

"Mama, why are you in here?"

She thought for a moment on how to word her answer without him asking too many questions.

"I'm waiting for your brother or sister to come and visit us," she told him. "You'll be a big brother finally."

Pierre had been excited about his new sibling ever since she explained to him what it would mean. He had asked many embarrassing questions, much to Rupert's dismay, and she had simply told him that she would tell him when he was older. Every now and then, he would ask her if he was older. Clarisse would simply smile at him and tell him that he had a ways to go.

"Can my sib..sibl…"

"Sibling," Rupert supplied.

"…share my room?" Pierre asked. Clarisse opened her mouth to respond but instead inhaled sharply.

"No, they can't, Pierre," Rupert took over, pulling Pierre onto his lap. "Your brother or sister will have his or her own room. It will be right next to yours, though, so the two of you can play together all the time."

Rupert kept his eyes on Clarisse, watching her breathe through the contraction. It seemed to him that they were growing stronger.

"Well, there's my favorite grandson."

All three turned to the voice in the doorway. Ted stood there with a large smile on his face, his arms wide open for his grandson. Pierre jumped off Rupert's lap and ran towards his maternal grandfather. Ted picked him up, Pierre snug in his arms, and walked towards his daughter.

"How are you doing, Clarisse?"

She gave her father a weak smile and chuckle. "Same as last time, I'm afraid. A tad more uncomfortable, though."

Rupert rose from his chair and gave his father-in-law a brief hug.

"I don't understand how you could've watched your wife do this three times," Rupert told Ted. "I can't bear to watch her do this once."

Ted clapped him on the back. "As my wife told me, 'the reward afterwards is worth the pain.'"

"And I happen to agree with her," Clarisse pitched in.

Rupert only shook his head and transferred Pierre back into his arms. "We'll give the two of you some time."

He took Pierre over to kiss his mother goodbye for the time being and then silently made his exit.

"He seems like he can barely contain his excitement," Ted mused of Rupert as he took his seat next to Clarisse.

"He can't," she confirmed. "He's beyond thrilled that he's here for this one. He stopped leaving the palace a month ago just so he'd be there when I went into labor. All of his meetings have to come to the palace."

"Sounds to me like he's been driving you crazy," Ted mused.

"No, he's been driving me insane," she corrected. "Marie has been giving him little tasks to do just so he'll stop watching me for five minutes."

"He can't help it, Clarisse," he defended the absent man. "In a way, this is like his first child."

"I know, and he's been so attentive during this," she grabbed his hand to look at his watch, "almost ten hour labor now, but I don't need to be supervised."

"And from what the doctor says, you still have a ways to go."

Clarisse groaned and threw her head back onto the pillow. Ted patted the back of her hands. She rolled her head over to look at him.

"Have you spoken to the boys lately?" she asked.

He nodded. "I spoke to Richard before I came here and I can't get a hold of Max while he's on assignment." Clarisse nodded. "Richard said he'll be here in the next few days. He just has to get permission from his lieutenant."

She remained silent. She missed seeing her brothers all the time. Major holidays simply were not enough.

"I also managed to get a hold of Joseph," Ted added softly. He didn't need anyone else to overhear. Her eyes snapped to his. "He didn't say if he would be here or not but he said he would get in touch with you somehow."

"Did he say why he wouldn't be here?"

"Yes," he said, but didn't tell her why. It wasn't a difficult answer to figure out anyway. "I don't understand why you don't just tell Rupert about Joseph. Everything wouldn't be such a secret and you could actually talk to your friend."

"Because I don't know how," she paused to breathe deeply, "Rupert would react to the fact that," she inhaled deeply again, "I had a relationship before I married him. I can't tell him; it would," another deep breath, "hurt him far too much."

He squeezed her hand while she rode out her latest contraction.

"Besides, it's not as if I speak to Joseph every day. Just once every few years. He is my friend, first and foremost. There's no harm in it."

*** **

Rupert admired his five-hour-old son through the nursery's glass window. He was sleeping soundly, as was Clarisse. After a twenty-eight hour labor, Eduard Christoff Phillipe finally arrived.

Rupert didn't think he could continue smiling for much longer.

He was beautiful. He was absolutely beautiful. His skin was awfully pink and he hardly had any hair but he was beautiful.

'I will not let my boys down,' Rupert vowed to himself. He would be the best father there was. His boys would have everything they could possibly want. He would make them proud.

"Rupert?"

He turned to see his mother standing there with a grin on her face.

"Clarisse is awake now," she told him.

"I'll be there shortly."

As his mother retreated, he turned his eyes back to the window. He counted two over from the right in the second row.

"Sleep tight, Phillipe," Rupert murmured to his son. He paused for a moment before reluctantly turning away. He had to tell his wife how proud he was of her again.

*** **

*** **

Before the day I met you

Life was so unkind

But you're the key to my piece of mind

*** **

*** **

The Spanish man sided up in front of the nursery window, his eyes still on the retreating figure. It was a risky move coming here, but he couldn't stay away.

He quickly found the correct bassinet, the nurse having told him which one. He didn't see much of Clarisse in this one. The nose was hers, as was the mouth.

He was proud of Clarisse. Her life was going down the right path, the one he wanted her to go down. Well, maybe not wanted…

Nevertheless, she had two beautiful children. The coronation of Clarisse and … him was happening next year. Now she would have her turn to make a difference with Genovia.

The breeze of someone walking past him brought him back to the present.

"Excuse me," he said, stopping the nurse. She stopped with a pleasant smile on her face. He pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Could you please give this to Ted Wells? He'll know who it's from."

The nurse nodded and promised she would deliver it then.

He gave one last look at the sleeping infant and smiled.

"I'll see you again, Phillipe."

*** **

*** **


	4. January 31, 1969

Disclaimer: Song used in this chapter is 'I'm Done' by the Pussycat Dolls from their album Doll Domination.

*** **

June 9, 2007 -- Palace Library

Mia flipped through the pages, looking for the next major event. She had already seen a mention of a coronation happening.

"Ah, there it is!" she exclaimed. "January 31, 1969. Wow, must have been cold."

The article was for the day of, so there was no picture.

'_New Power Rises as Record Snow Falls'_

*** **

*** **

January 31, 1969 -- secret room

Clarisse watched with rapt attention as the snow fell speedily to the ground. Genovia was expecting a record snow fall to accumulate over the next few days. Snow always made her smile. There was just something about seeing snow fall, the special feeling it created. It was still early in the morning; the sky was still pitch black as the sun slept on lazily.

Seeing the unique flakes float to Earth calmed the nerves running through her.

In a matter of hours, she would become Queen Clarisse Renaldi. It was daunting. She felt like there were still so many things she needed to learn. Marie had assured her numerous times that there was nothing left to be taught. That didn't mean that Clarisse wouldn't forget very important pieces of knowledge every now and then.

There were so many areas she wanted to makes changes in, but she was afraid she would fail miserably at them all. She hadn't even told Rupert about her aspirations but he could tell she was nervous about something.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Clarisse jumped at the masculine voice behind her.

"Forgive me; I didn't intend to scare you," Joseph apologized. Of course he would be the one to find her and make her confess all. "The snow fall, it's beautiful, is it not?"

He sat next to her in front of the window. It was a small room, big enough for only a few people. Their close quarters made the room feel cozy and intimate as they watched the snow fall together.

"Yes, it is," she finally answered. "It's also very tranquil."

Joseph nodded in agreement. They sat together quietly for a moment before he spoke again. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Why are you up so early?" Clarisse questioned in return.

"I asked you first," he responded coyly.

They laughed softly together at their antics. Being with him always made her feel better. It was a familiar feeling that she relished. He calmed her. He treated her like the human being she was, not like some cold-blooded royal with no heart. He was refreshing.

Despite his retort, Joseph answered the question first.

"I get up every morning at four-thirty."

Her jaw dropped as she stared at him. "Every morning?" He nodded. "What on Earth for?"

"I get more accomplished when I wake early," he explained. "If I wake any later, I feel as though my entire day has been ruined."

"Well, I can understand that, but four-thirty?" She couldn't fathom why a person would get up that early willingly.

"Why are you awake so early this morning? I know the boys aren't awake yet."

"No, they're not, thank heavens." The boys liked to wake her by at least five-thirty; six o'clock on weekends. "No, I'm awake because I can't possibly sleep any longer. My nerves are pulsing too much."

"There's no need to be nervous, Clarisse," he murmured softly. "And there is certainly nothing to fear."

Her eyes met his. "Yes, there is," she insisted. "What if I fail miserably at everything? There's so much I want to do. What if I can't do any of it?"

"What if you can?" Joseph pointed out. "What if you succeed beautifully and Genovia transforms for the better?"

Clarisse absentmindedly waved that off. "You don't know that."

She turned her gaze back to the falling snow but he wasn't about to give up.

"And you don't know that you'll fail." He took hold of her hand and waited until she looked at him. "You have the chance to better an entire country, Clarisse. Don't let some silly fears get in the way of great change."

His words hit her like a cold shower. Why did he always have to be right? Why did he always realize just exactly what she needed to hear?

"Joseph, I… you're right," Clarisse admitted. She blinked and stared out the window. "You're absolutely right. Why are you always right?"

"Because I know you; I know how your mind works."

"Yes, you do and for that I'm grateful."

They sat quietly for a while. With the snow falling, it seemed quieter than normal. It was peaceful and serene. It brought back pleasant memories from their first meeting together.

_**_

"_I always enjoy watching the snow through this window," she told him quietly. "Whenever I can't sleep and it's snowing, I always come down here to watch it."_

"_You make it sound as if you never sleep during the winter," he commented. He settled further into the cushions of the couch._

_She smiled and moved her eyes to her tea cup. "I do sleep during the winter but I've had a lot on my mind lately. It's complicated."_

"_I'm a good listener," he told her. She only continued to smile and play with her tea cup. She felt too comfortable around him. She never felt comfortable around anyone in only a few short hours. It was insane and completely unlike her._

_**_

"Tell me," Joseph said, ending the silence, "what do you wish to accomplish?"

Clarisse glanced over at him with longing in her eyes. "Everything."

*** **

*** **

Palace Library

Mia flipped through the headlines of previous years.

'_Queen to read at opening of her children's library'_

'_After school programs established under queen's watchful eye'_

'_Free health clinic opened for the people of Genovia; Queen helps out during opening day'_

'_Community music program to be started in Pyrus at queen's insistence'_

'_Meal program for Genovians aged sixty-five and up'_

Mia perused through the articles. All of the programs had been started and funded by her grandma.

"Maybe there is more to this job than I thought."

*** **

*** **

Palace Grounds -- Coronation Ceremony

Clarisse couldn't focus as she watched her husband prepare his flaming arrow. She had butterflies in her stomach. What if she forgot how to hold the bow? What if she forgot her lessons? Everything Joseph had taught her?

When she had first been told of the flaming arrow tradition, she had been hesitant to admit that she didn't know anything about archery. However, after a few harrowing attempts and a guard's trip to the hospital, she had agreed to lessons. It had been sheer luck that Joseph knew a thing or two about the sport.

They had spent numerous afternoons together during the autumn months often, to her dismay, in close proximity. If not for the joyous shouts from Pierre playing nearby and the cries of Phillipe ready for his next meal, Clarisse would have been tempted to lean into his embrace. Sometimes, despite the reminder of her children, she did. She wasn't ashamed, either. She loved her children and her life, but with Joseph, she was allowed to play an entirely new role: Friend.

With Joseph, she wasn't at someone's beck and call for their next meal. With Joseph, she didn't have to smile and be pleasing for hours on end during a dinner party. With Joseph, she didn't have to approach matters of state with a detached heart. With Joseph, she was simply Clarisse, a woman. Sometimes she became the Clarisse from her teenage years, a girl in love for the first and last time.

He kept her grounded. For that she would always thank him. And she would always regret that that was all she could do.

*** **

*** **

I don't want to fall in love

Just want to have a little fun

But then you came and swept me off my feet

And now I'm done, so done

Falling madly, deeply I

Surprised myself enough to find

That what's begun is love

And now I'm done, so done

I'm done

*** **


	5. June 18, 1986

Disclaimer: Songs used in this chapter are 'Walk Away' by Christina Aguilera from her album Stripped and 'Isn't She Lovely?' by Stevie Wonder from his album Songs in the Key of Life.

*** **

June 9, 2007 -- Palace Library

'_Queen hastily flies to the States; King stays behind'_

*** **

*** **

June 18, 1986 -- 30,000 feet above Pennsylvania, U.S.A.

Clarisse looked out the plane window into the dark night. Despite the late hour she was unable to sleep. How could she when her first grandchild had just been born only an hour before?

"You really should get some rest, Clarisse," Joseph's gentle voice said to her right, "or you won't function properly when you meet your granddaughter."

Clarisse chuckled to herself softly. "I'm a grandmother," she said aloud, more so to herself. She looked over at Joseph. "Can you believe that?"

"Actually I can't."

She smiled at him before patting the seat next to her. "Sit with me, Joseph. Take my mind off the remaining hours. Will we land soon?"

"A while yet." He patted her hand as he settled into the seat next to her. "Don't worry; the time will fly by in no time."

"I just want to see my son, Joseph," she spoke lazily. "My son and my granddaughter. I can't believe I have a granddaughter."

Joseph chuckled. "I know. You've told me."

She looked over at him. Her look was one of apology.

"I'm sorry, Joseph," she apologized. She turned her body towards him. "I knew I would have grandchildren one day but I never thought it would be so soon."

"And yet the time has arrived," he pointed out the obvious. "How does that make you feel?"

"I feel happy but I'm in disbelief at the same time." She chuckled. "I think that's been obvious." She paused. "I'm also sad about it."

"Why is that?"

"I won't get the opportunity to spoil her rotten," she said sadly. "This will be the only chance I'll get to see her until she turns eighteen."

She sat silently for a few minutes, content to be beside Joseph. His hand was warm on hers.

"Why won't Rupert accept his grandchild?" she asked Joseph. To her, he contained all the answers.

Joseph looked around the cabin. Aside from the two pilots and lady's maid, they were the only two onboard. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. She readily went, herself wrapping an arm around his middle. She needed the comfort only he could offer.

"Perhaps he's afraid the crown will be compromised," he finally suggested.

"Compromised?" Her brow wrinkled.

He elaborated. "Well, to him, his son has run off and done something foolish on a whim. It wasn't planned or thought out at length. And you have to take into account the fact that he's never meet Miss Helen. He doesn't know who has come into the crown's hands. He might feel as if he's not in control of the future of his country."

Clarisse thought it over. She had been upset when Phillipe had called home to announce he had just gotten married to a woman she had never met. She had been shell-shocked when her son had called to tell her Helen was pregnant. She had been angry and upset but she had accepted it.

Unlike Rupert.

Unlike Rupert, she knew how hard it was to walk away from a love that was unexpected.

*** **

*** **

What do you do

When you know something's bad for you

And you still can't let go?

*** **

*** **

She had been upset with her son but she had understood his feelings. She was still upset but she wasn't about to reject her grandchild.

She settled further into his embrace. He strengthened his hold on her and said, "You need to rest of before you know it, it will be time to go to the hospital and you will be ready to fall asleep against my shoulder yet again."

"That's only happened once and I apologized," she defended after pinching his side. "I'm too… excited to sleep."

"You need to sleep," he repeated. "If you don't now, you will certainly have to when we reach the Consulate."

She laid her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Maybe she was just a little tired.

"If I sleep, will you stay by my side until we land?" Her voice was growing lethargic.

"I'll never leave your side."

*** **

*** **

June 9, 2007 -- Palace Garden

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Clarisse and Joseph stopped their conversation when Mia chose to interrupt them.

Clarisse looked up at her granddaughter, squinting at the midday sun. "Excuse me?"

Mia held up the news clipping she'd brought with her.

"You did care about me," she explained as Clarisse's eyes ran over the old paper. "Why didn't you tell me you had visited me when I was born?"

Clarisse took the paper from Mia. She ran a finger over the headline. She still remembered the day well. She'd been so nervous going into the hospital. She had practically squeezed Joseph's hand to the bone.

"It didn't seem important at the time," Clarisse finally spoke. "I was still getting used to the idea of being a grandmother. I wasn't sure if you would even talk to me most of the time."

Mia made a face. "Well, I would have opened up sooner if you'd told me that you had visited me after I was born."

Clarisse smiled and looked up at her. "It's too late to try that now, but I'll be sure to rack my brain for further events."

Mia smiled and sat next to Joseph and Clarisse. Clarisse had a nostalgic look on her face. Mia was dying to know what she was thinking about.

"Will you tell me about it?" Mia asked in a meek voice.

"I don't know, Mia," Joseph said, his voice teasing, "her memory isn't what it used to be."

Mia chuckled but Clarisse was in her own world now.

"I'll never forget that day," Clarisse started. "only the memory of my sons' births can rival it. There was a slight drizzle outside but I was far too nervous to notice it…"

*** **

*** **

June 18, 1986 -- Hospital

"Oh, Joseph, I can't do this," Clarisse said for the third time in the last few minutes. "I'm too nervous."

Joseph chuckled. "No, you're not. You're simply excited about seeing her for the first time."

"And likely the last time until she's of age," she commented gravely.

"You can't think like that," Joseph warned. He took a hold of her hands. "Now, you have a new born grandchild that is dying to meet you and you her. You have a son that will be thrilled to see you and a daughter-in-law that will be touched you flew six thousand miles to see her child. There is no time for nerves, Clarisse."

She looked into his eyes and saw his honesty. He was absolutely right. She was anxious to see her granddaughter for the first time. She was anxious to see her son, who had no idea she was even in the States. Helen, she was still getting to know her, but she was excited to see her all the same.

She took a deep breath and nodded. "You're right, Joseph. Now, let's go see my family."

Head held high and smiling, the two headed towards the elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor. The ride up was smooth; other passengers made it difficult to talk. Joseph stood close to her, guarding her closely as always. His hand hovered near her lower back, just barely touching her. It was comforting.

They stepped off on floor five and asked the nurses where Helen's room was. They set off down the left corridor, Clarisse's arm wrapping around Joseph's. She let Joseph lead the way, her mind focused only on seeing her son.

She stopped when Joseph did, in front of her daughter-in-law's room. He tapped softly on the open door before peeking his head around the corner. The occupants looked up at the noise and were welcomed with a pleasant surprise.

"Mom! Joe! What are you doing here?" Phillipe exclaimed.

"Why on Earth do you think?" Clarisse teased as she wrapped her arms around her son. "I had to be here to see my first grandchild."

Phillipe was still in awe as he moved to hug Joseph. "I can't believe you came." He stepped back and took in their smiling faces. "Dad didn't come?"

Clarisse's smile fell from her face. "I'm sorry, Phillipe."

But Phillipe only shrugged it off and commented, "It's just as well. He'd probably just yell at me some more."

"Now, Phillipe, you know how your father is. Just give him time," Clarisse defended her absent husband. Inside though, she knew her son was right. Rupert had done nothing but yell at his son since finding out he was married to Helen. The pregnancy only made already tense situations even tenser. It had gotten to the point where Phillipe wasn't even looking at, let alone speaking to, his father. Clarisse knew the situation would be made even worse if her son knew what his father was up to at home.

Rupert was still actively fighting his son's marriage, looking for ways to have it annulled. She

knew he was close to finding the Act in their Constitution that would invalidate her son's marriage. She feared for her son. She knew what it was like to want life go one way but have it predestined to go another. He was utterly happy in his life with Helen, but reality had to be faced as well. He was heir to a throne and Helen did not want that life.

"Joe, I'm glad to see you," Phillipe said, eager to change the subject.

"I had to be here to see your first child. It seems like only yesterday I was dragging you into your mother's office after I caught you sliding down the banister after repeatedly telling you not to."

The two shared grins as they remembered all of the difficult times Phillipe gave the palace staff as a youngster. And then later as a teenagers. It always took two or three times of telling him not to do something before the message actually got through.

Clarisse stepped over to Helen while the two men spoke to one another. She still wasn't sure what to think about the young American woman but she knew one thing: She made Phillipe happy.

"Hello, Helen," she greeted softly with a smile on her face. A smile Helen would later recognize as Clarisse and not the queen of Genovia. "How are you feeling?"

"Aside from a little soreness, wonderful, your Majesty," Helen said, her nerves evident in her voice.

"Call me Clarisse. Today, I am just a mother visiting her son and his family," the monarch informed.

Helen nodded but said, "It'll take some getting used to."

Clarisse smiled and turned her attention to the bundle in Helen's arms. "Have you named her yet?"

By now, Joseph and Phillipe had ventured closer to Helen's bedside. For once, since her marriage to Phillipe, Helen felt calm and at ease. Perhaps she was still on a high from creating another being; the endorphins were still present in her blood stream causing a euphoric feeling after breast feeding her daughter. She wasn't nervous around her mother-in-law; perhaps they had now achieved a middle ground with the birth of the matriarch's first grandchild. Joseph didn't make her feel uneasy anymore. In fact, when she had visited Genovia for the first time, he had taken her side when the monarchs were deciding whether to acknowledge the marriage or not. She wasn't sure what to say or how to act around her father-in-law yet and she doubted she'd ever feel comfortable in his presence.

For now, though, family drama had disappeared.

"Yes, we have," Phillipe answered his mother's question. "Mom, Joe, say hello to Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi."

Helen pushed back the blanket surrounding her daughter, showing her face to the visitors. Amelia turned her face to the side at the sudden change in temperature.

"Would you like to hold her, your…Clarisse?" Helen asked, correcting herself when she caught her mistake. Clarisse nodded, unable to form the words yet.

The transfer was easy, even though the last time Clarisse held a baby was in 1969, when Clarisse was only 24. Amelia immediately settled into her grandmother's arms, the additional warmth welcomed by the infant.

"Hello, Amelia," Clarisse whispered to the little girl. "I can't believe you have already made me a grandmother."

The group chuckled by Clarisse was unaware of them. She settled into a chair that had been placed next to the bed.

"You look very similar to your father, but I can see some more fortunate features from your mother that your father wasn't blessed with."

She heard Phillipe's protest from across the room and smiled. Phillipe looked just like his father and took after him as well. Only Pierre had been blessed with his mother's fair features, as well as her level head and calm temper.

Amelia's eyes fluttered as if aware of the compliment. She squinted at the middle-aged woman, her face only one of a million she wouldn't remember unless seen every day of her life. Clarisse knew her granddaughter wouldn't remember her so she was going to enjoy what little time she had to enjoy.

"You're a very beautiful girl, Amelia, and I don't want anyone telling you otherwise."

*** **

*** **

Isn't she lovely?

Isn't she wonderful?

Isn't she precious?

Isn't she lovely? Made from love

*** **

*** **

June 9, 2007 -- Garden

"I must have spent twenty minutes simply holding you," Clarisse reminisced, returning to the present. "After I left California, I knew I wouldn't be back until you were eighteen and I knew Phillipe wouldn't bring you to Genovia. I wanted to take my time saying hello and goodbye."

Mia took all of the information in, finally realizing that her grandmother had never actually ignored her willingly.

"The prince found someone to take a photograph of the two of you actually. And then one of all of us there that day," Joseph remembered. "And one of me holding you, as well."

Clarisse nodded, looking over at him. "those pictures are in the family albums in my room." Turning to Mia, she added, "We can look through them together one day soon when there are more than five minutes to spare."

Mia nodded, always eager to see the multitude of side that made up her grandma. "I'd like that."

Clarisse smiled at her granddaughter. She was beyond thrilled that Mia had accepted her after sixteen years of zero communication. Except for that one day, when Mia was less than twelve hours old. The photograph of her holding Mia was one of her most prized photographs. For years, she had kept it hidden in the family albums. Perhaps it was time to frame it and display it on her office desk.

"But Mia, do me a favor," Clarisse said before Mia could leave just as quickly as she had arrived.

"Sure, grandma."

Clarisse looked her dead in the eye and said, "Wait until I'm dead to make me a great-grandmother."

*** **

*** **


	6. August 24, 2001

Disclaimer and A/N: The songs used in this chapter are '_My Life, Your Entertainment' _by T.I. and Usher from T.I's album Paper Trail and '_Goodbye'_ by Miley Cyrus from her album _Breakout_. And I changed the type of dog Clarisse has. I'm not big on poodles.

*** **

June 10, 2007 -- Palace Library

'_It is a sad day in Genovia. The streets are bare. The shops are empty. Homes are filled with heartache. After a long battle with his ailing health, the king has lost the war. At 11.51 yesterday evening, the king passed away. He was only 57. There is no word yet on how the queen is coping.'_

*** **

*** **

October 24, 2001 -- La Rochelle Cathedral

Her head was down turned, her eyes closed as she attempted to gather her thoughts. Her body was slack; she had no more energy to play the role of a strong queen. She had no energy at all. With Rupert in the hospital, all duties fell upon her. She had always shared the duties of the crown with her husband. Now, everything required her review, her signature, her approval alone. Phillipe wasn't yet ready to assume any duties; he was still learning. Heaven bless Charlotte. She at least separated everything into piles regarding level of importance. After four months of everything on her shoulders -- illness, galas, Parliament, the press -- Clarisse only wanted to collapse.

Rupert had kicked her out of the hospital today. She had arrived early as promised; visiting him every spare second she could. She had only been there for a few hours when he had gently told her to leave. Of course she had told him no, she wasn't leaving until someone kicked her out. And they both knew no one would tell her to leave. Still, she protested and still he told her to leave. He told her he would be fine, and that she should enjoy the beautiful sunny day outside. She told him the only place she needed to be was with her husband. Finally, they had reached an agreement: she would leave to spend time with her sons if Joseph stayed with Rupert until nightfall.

That was seventeen hours ago.

It was midnight and she had last spoken to her husband over the phone after supper. She was unable to sleep, unable to control the wandering of her mind. She hadn't seen Joseph by the time she left for the cathedral. That was two hours ago. Now she couldn't shake the doubt plaguing her mind.

'I shouldn't have left him'

She came to the cathedral to clear her mind, just as she had thirty-three years ago when Joseph had reentered her life. She had needed peace then and she needed peace now. She needed guidance. She needed hope. She needed faith.

Rupert told her to be strong and she was when everyone's eyes were on her. But in private, she wept. Wept for her sons. Wept for her country. Wept for her husband.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

There she was. Right where his men had told him she would be -- in front of that statue. He didn't need the men to tell him that, though. As soon as Charlotte had told him she was at the cathedral, he knew exactly where he would find her. He had seen her kneeling there many times in that same spot over the last few months.

Never had he to share such horrible news though.

Joseph hesitated at the back of the large cathedral. She needed to know the latest development but his feet seemed rooted to the floor.

He had been on her side when the king kicked her out of his room seventeen hours ago. Joseph knew how much she worried about her husband. She rearranged her now hectic schedule everyday so most of her time was spent visiting him. The king had no idea how late she stayed up every night finishing her work, or how early she woke to visit him first thing. She was running herself ragged and wouldn't listen to anyone when they told her to slow down and rest.

Perhaps the king knew that. Perhaps that was why he left Joseph specific instructions earlier.

_**_

_Joseph kept his eyes on the door after Clarisse left. He couldn't believe she had listened to the king. He couldn't recall the last time that had happened. _

_His attention was drawn back to the reason he was still in the hospital room when a loud cough racked the room._

"_Can I get you anything, your Majesty? Would you like some water?" Joseph asked the king. He stepped over to his bedside and took in what he saw._

_His condition was ailing fast, something the king managed to hide from his wife. His skin was pale, almost translucent. His eyes had dark circles around them. He barely had enough strength to lift his hand to reach for the water Joseph offered._

_After taking a long sip, he handed the Styrofoam cup back to Joseph. "Thank you, Joe. I'm glad you agreed to stay. I have something I need to ask of you."_

"_Anything, sir."_

"_Sit, sit. You may as well be comfortable while I give you my final order," Rupert ordered his Head of Security._

_Joseph bristled at the words that expected death._

"_Sir, you are not dying," Joseph tried to insist. But as he looked at his king, he realized that may not be as true as he wanted it to be._

"_We're all dying, Joe. Some of us are simply dying faster than others." Rupert coughed once more before letting Joseph know what was on his mind. "Now, these are my last orders to you so I want you to respect a dying man's wishes."_

"_Of course, sir," Joseph automatically agreed. "It'll be my top priority. " _

_Rupert turned his eyes to the Spanish man and spoke clearly, "Take care of Clarisse when I'm gone. You do such a wonderful job as it is, but when I'm no longer here, I fear she'll work herself to death. Make sure she gets enough rest."_

_Rupert paused and Joseph took that as a sign for him to respond._

"_I'll do my best, sir, but you know how stubborn she is," he attempted to joke, trying to lighten the somber mood._

"_I'm serious, Joseph. She depends on you and she'll need you even more once I'm gone. She loves you, Joe."_

_Joseph blinked rapidly and tried not to stiffen in his chair. Had he really just said that? Had the king really just said that about his own wife? Clarisse and he had a friendship, yes. An extremely strong friendship, but he didn't think any… other feelings showed. Maybe the king was simply delirious._

"_Sir, I…" He was speechless._

"_Don't deny it, Joe. I know she loves you and you her. That's why I know you'll take care of her. She listens to you like no other. She searches for your approval."_

_The look on Joseph's face was priceless. How did he even know? Joseph never showed emotion on his face, except when he was around Clarisse. What did one say to comments like that? _

_Joseph gulped in a large breath and released it slowly and said, "I'll treat it like no other order you've ever given me, sir."_

**

Clarisse didn't look up when she heard the footsteps approaching her. She knew who it was, who it always was.

Joseph kneeled next to her. She extended her hand and he accepted, knowing she needed comfort and assurance. No words were spoken at first. Thoughts were weighing too heavily on both of their minds.

"Tell me he's fine, Joseph," Clarisse finally spoke. Joseph could hear the tears in her voice.

Swallowing to moisten his parched throat, Joseph slowly opened his mouth to respond. "I'm sorry, Clarisse."

Her eyes darted up to his as the breath fled from her body.

"He passed away just before midnight," Joseph continued before he lost his nerve. "I'm so sorry, Clarisse."

She removed her hand from his and stood shakily.

"No, he can't be," she denied, trying to convince herself that what Joseph had told her wasn't true. Tried to convince herself that her world wasn't crashing down around her. "He can't be. I just saw him today. He was fine. He's still fine."

Joseph stood and put his hands on her shoulders to stop her pacing. He forced her to look into his eyes and see the truth.

"He wants you to know that he's sorry and that he loves you and the boys."

Tears slowly leaked from her eyes. "Please tell me you're lying, Joseph," she begged with him, her eyes showing the hurt she felt.

His eyes reflected pain she felt. "I'm sorry, Clarisse."

She started to shake her head as tears fell steadily.

"No, no, no, he can't be," she cried as she began to collapse onto the floor. Joseph caught her in time and slowly lowered her down. "He can't leave me alone."

"You're not alone, Clarisse," Joseph attempted to tell her but his words fell on deaf ears.

"I shouldn't have left him."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Joseph helped Clarisse into bed just after one thirty in the morning. She trusted him enough to help her get ready for bed, or perhaps she wasn't lucid enough to care. Charlotte was still awake; they had passed her in the hallway. Clarisse hadn't even heard her assistant when Charlotte had inquired whether Clarisse wanted her to do anything. Joseph only shook his head and said he would speak to her later. Lady, Clarisse's English setter, looked up startled as she was woken from her dream. On the site of her master, she sat up and yawned greatly before getting up slowly and ambling over her way.

Now Clarisse appeared wide awake. She stayed upright and fidgeted with the covers. Her tears had dried for now. Everyone knew the king had been ill. No one could imagine he would pass away because of it.

Joseph moved around the room to make it more comfortable for her. He shut the curtains, watching the way they sashayed against one another as they met in the middle. He extinguished the lights in the bathroom and the hall. He informed the guard stationed outside her door that the queen was to be undisturbed, even by her lady's maids. The guard only nodded. Joseph had a feeling he knew what had happened.

When he returned to Clarisse's side, she was looking around the room aimlessly. Her fists were clutching the edges of the covers tightly. Lady was lying next to her on the bed, already on her way back to dreamland. She looked lost, like a child who had just lost both parents and couldn't comprehend what that meant. Joseph's heart broke for her. Her world was shaken in a way it hadn't been shook before.

He sat on the edge of her bed and released her grip on the covers. She slowly brought her eyes to his. His heart broke at the pain he saw there. He ran a hand down her cheek, cupping it gently. She leaned into his palm, her eyes closing at the touch. Mostly to keep her tears from falling again.

"What am I going to do, Joseph?" she whispered so that he barely heard her.

"You are going to lie back and go to sleep," he advised. She looked up at him. He continued, "You need to sleep, Clarisse. You're going to need your strength in these next few days."

Clarisse inhaled a shaky breath. "I don't think I can sleep."

He pulled the covers aside so she could lie back against the mattress. She obliged, he was relieved to see.

"Try," he told her. "I'll be here all night if you need me. Now, I want you to close your eyes and just relax as best you can."

Normally she would have made a smart remark at that. Now she simply followed his instructions. Her hand found his as her eyes drew shut. She doubted she would fall asleep but she would humor him anyway.

To his relief and her shock, she felt her eyelids growing heavy. Perhaps the day had taken its toll on her…but not near the toll the next few days and months would have on her.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The next morning, Clarisse watched Joseph walk out the door of her private rooms to fetch her some tea, unsure of how she felt being alone for a moment. She ran a hand over Lady's head, glad to have her company. Normally, she wasn't allowed on the bed; Rupert wouldn't allow it. Her warmth was comforting, though. Still, she found herself hoping Joseph would hurry back.

'I'm a widow at fifty-six years old,' she thought to herself, 'and my country is in jeopardy. My husband is gone. What am I to do?'

*** **

*** **

June 10, 2007 -- Palace Kitchen

"Good afternoon, Mia. I thought you were locking yourself in the library until July," said Joseph from his place at the kitchen counter.

"I am but I had to take a break for a little while," Mia informed him, getting herself a glass of water. "I'm at the part where grandpa died. You know, it's kind of weird reading about everyone from a reporter's point of view."

"Some things are easier to read about than to talk about," Joseph cryptically explained. Mia looked over at him but he wasn't looking towards her. He was focused on the security plans laid out in front of him.

"What do you mean?"

*** **

*** **

2001 -- Clarisse's bedroom

They'd had thirty-eight years together, thirty-eight wonderful years filled with up and down memories. The birth of their sons, anniversaries, birthdays, trips as a family and not as monarchs… He often danced with her alone in their suite at night. He could always put a smile on her face.

She'd been hesitant to marry him, didn't want to. But she had swallowed her stubbornness and did it anyway. For her country. At first, she was distant. Her wedding night had been disastrous, to say the least. In the following months, she had been cold and timid with him.

And Rupert put up with it all. He put up with her ever changing moods. He was patient with her and in time she found herself caring more and more about him with the passing of each day.

But she could never quite bring herself to be in love with him.

*** **

*** **

2007 -- Palace Kitchen

"You see, Mia, some things are still difficult for your grandmother to talk about," Joseph explained as Mia sat down across from him. "She was a different woman before your grandfather and father passed away."

Mia's brow furrowed. "Different how?" Mia couldn't imagine her grandmother being any different than she was now. The photographs of her grandmother she saw in the paper looked more like a stranger than they did a blood relative.

Joseph set down his pen and clasped his hands together. Nothing could ever be let go of with Mia.

"She used to be more spontaneous, now she doesn't have time for that. She doesn't have time for much of anything of her choosing with the responsibility of the crown on her shoulders. Of course, she still sets aside all the time in the world for Pierre and anyone that wishes to have a private word with her and you whenever you need something. But she has little time for the activities which once gave her so much joy. She doesn't enjoy life like she used to."

*** **

*** **

2001 -- Clarisse's room

He accepted that she wasn't in love with him. He'd told her that once. He'd told her as long as their friendship remained strong, that wasn't a problem. She knew he wanted her to be in love with him, though. Or at least to hear the words from her. He had always appeared cold and dispassionate to everyone on the outside, but on the inside she knew he needed to be loved just like anyone else.

He was different man when he was around his family. He wanted nothing but the best for his sons and wife. When Pierre and Phillipe sometimes made the wrong choice, it was hard for Rupert to accept that. But he loved them despite their choices.

He was a difficult man to talk to sometimes. He couldn't understand why people didn't see everything his way. Clarisse had always tried to explain to him that people were entitled to their opinions as well.

He was a stubborn man, but he always meant well.

*** **

*** **

2007 -- Palace Kitchen

"I don't get it," Mia interrupted. "She always out doing something for the people or something to liven up the palace. I read the headlines in the papers about all of the organizations she started."

"That was before anyone close to her passed away. She was always creating a better system for the people. But she used to smile more, a smile that would light up her entire face and warm the whole room. She used to laugh a laugh that made you want to do so as well. You've changed her some in those respects, but that old queen is dead and gone."

Mia was silent. She tried to count all the times she'd seen her grandmother smile or laugh. Numerous, but as she remembered those snapshots taken by photographers, she used to laugh more. There were many photos of her grandma with her sons where Clarisse was laughing and smiling at their antics. In the past few years Mia had flipped through, she hadn't seen any traces of laughter.

"So you see, Mia," Joseph continued. "She is trying to return to the queen she once was but it may take some time yet. To speed it along, I'd suggest once you get married to give her a great-grandchild as soon as possible."

"Joe, you heard her threaten me!" Mia exclaimed, a smile lighting up her face. A smile much like her grandmothers. He was teasing her but there was a serious undercurrent in his voice. He knew Clarisse had loved being a mother above all else when her children were growing up. He knew Clarisse had missed out of being a normal grandmother and spoiling her granddaughter. He knew she was starving for the chance to spoil and love a great-grandchild.

Joseph shook his head and smile as well, chuckling. "I'm serious, Mia. Despite her words the other day, I know she wants great-grandchildren. Once that happens, you'll see the smile of the old Clarisse return."

*** **

*** **

2001 -- Clarisse's room

Clarisse wiped the tears from her eyes as she remembered some years back. It was a few years after Mia was born. Clarisse had been less than pleased with Rupert for a while after she returned from visiting Mia. They had grown distant from one another and it was obvious to everyone around them. She had grown even closer to Joseph, if that was even possible. Rupert hadn't liked that. In a moment of anger, he'd asked her if she'd had an affair with the other man while they had been married.

At the time, Clarisse had been too infuriated and Rupert had been far too drunk for her to answer immediately. After seconds had passed, anger continuing to boil, she had answered no. She hadn't lied; it was the truth. She had never had anything other than a friendship with Joseph while she had been married.

But that conversation had forever changed their relationship.

Rupert had stormed out and she had not seen him again until the next day. He avoided her every chance he got and then suddenly he apologized and doted on her. He knew she hated being doted on but back then she had sensed there was another reason for his doting.

The relationship was never fully repaired though, but that did not mean she stopped caring deeply for him.

She knew of his mistake but did not hate him for it.

*** **

*** **

'I remember when we kissed

I still feel it on my lips

The time that you danced with me

With no music playing'

*** **

*** **

October 28, 2001 -- Pyrus Avenue

People lined up along the streets to watch the horse-drawn caisson carry the king's body to La Rochelle Cathedral. There was a mass of people engulfing the streets and sidewalks to get a glimpse of the procession. There was absolute silence except for the drummer and the horse's hooves clacking on the pavement. The Genovian Royal Guard marched on all sides of the caisson, the Royal family following behind in limousines. The casket was covered with the flag of Genovia, the sun shining on it before casting a shadow as the sun disappeared behind a cloud. Rain was coming but no one seemed to care.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Clarisse was motionless when the car stopped outside the cathedral. She gripped both her son's hands tightly. She just couldn't bring herself to leave the car. Not with the press there just waiting for her to fall apart.

"Mom, we'll go out first and make sure they stay back a good distance," Phillipe said from her left. "Security's already working on it. Charlotte will stay in here with you. Joseph is just outside the door."

Clarisse only nodded. She squeezed their hands before they left. Charlotte took Pierre's place in the car, remaining silent until Clarisse decided she wanted to speak. Clarisse kept her gaze on the windows. She could see Joseph but he wasn't where her eyes rested. Beyond him were the rapidly flashing bulbs and microphones pushing their way towards the barricade of vehicles.

The headlines would be vicious tomorrow, undoubtedly. Her pain was nothing but amusement to them.

*** **

*** **

'My life, your entertainment

You watch it while I live it

I walk, they follow

I talk, they holla

Just here for your amusement'

*** **

*** **

Joseph cursed to himself when he realized the press was facing Clarisse's side of the car. He could feel the rain that had been predicated all week starting as well. He nodded at Shades to give the signal to open up the umbrellas. They would protect Clarisse from the flashing bulbs.

Joseph opened his own umbrella and knocked on the car's window. He opened the door and said to the women, "It's time."

He saw Clarisse hesitate. Charlotte exited the car on the other side while he waited for Clarisse. He wasn't going to hurry her along today, despite the schedule. She could take all the time she needed.

Cameras began flashing as she lifted one leg out of the car, then the other. Security formed a tighter barricade around her. Joseph made sure his body blocked hers from their sight. Phillipe rushed down the stairs to help.

Clarisse accepted his outstretched hand and held tight to it. He helped her out of the vehicle and shielded her from the rain with his umbrella. Her body pressed close to his as the press shouted questions at her. She ignored it all. She was numb to it all. She was only aware of Joseph and Phillipe guiding her around the car and up the steps of the cathedral.

Joseph moved quickly, not wanting the photographers to have a moment to get a picture of her. Security followed behind them. Charlotte and Pierre were waiting for them by the doors.

"Joseph?"

He looked over at Clarisse. He was surprised to hear her speak. She'd hardly spoken a word all morning to anyone, including her sons.

"Will you sit with me in there?"

She wanted him to sit with her? She would have her sons and her brothers and she wanted him to sit with her? One look into her eyes and he could deny her no request.

"Of course I will."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A Requiem Mass was held, but shorter than normal at the king's request.

Keeping to his word, Joseph sat to the right of Clarisse. Her sons were on her left and her brothers sat behind them with Charlotte.

The people of Genovia were invited to attend, as were diplomats from other countries. The entire cathedral was filled, people even standing in the back.

Everyone wanted their chance to mourn the king.

Clarisse was silent the entire time next to him. Every once in a while, he would glance over at her and see the tears rolling down her cheeks. She had a grip on his hand, most likely the same firm grip she had on Pierre's own hand. He knew she was struggling to remain composed, struggling not to break down and cry right there.

Clarisse had opted for the Prime Minister to speak for the family. He read selections of speeches made by the king, no formal eulogy given. It wouldn't have felt right.

The Archbishop spoke after that, reading a selection from Clarisse and Rupert's coronation. He knew the family well. He had blessed the monarchs at their wedding, baptized their sons, given the invocation at their coronation.

It was his reading that caused Clarisse to crumble.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Finally Clarisse stood. With her head down turned, she began making her way out of the cathedral with Pierre and Phillipe at her side. Slowly, the family made their way down the aisle. Joseph wouldn't follow until later.

Eight Royal Guard members took their places around the casket and lifted it off the bier. They followed the royal family, Her Majesty's security falling in in front and behind them. As the procession moved further down the aisle, everyone else fell in behind them.

Outside, Clarisse and her sons waited while the casket was loaded onto the caisson again, this time to be charted off to Crown Hill National Cemetery. Joseph joined the family as the rest of security took their places around the casket. Joseph was to walk with the family while the rest kept a protective watch over the man in the casket.

Rain was drizzling now but still no one seemed to notice. Too many of them were too numb to care.

Once Joseph nodded to her, Clarisse began walking, her sons in step with her. Joseph fell in just a step behind her, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. People were still pouring out of the cathedral, and there were still people lined up along the streets.

And the ever present media was still waiting to get their shot of the widowed queen.

*** **

*** **

'My life, you entertainment

You watch it while I live it

You waitin' for me to lose it

I guess I'm just here for your amusement'

*** **

*** **

The burial was a private event for family and close friends only. Everyone else remained outside the gates, wanting their queen to know she had their support.

One by one, friends and family paid their last respects to their fallen king. Clarisse stood back with Pierre and Phillipe, accepting their sympathies with a tired smile and hugs. She knew everyone there and yet most felt like virtual strangers at the moment. She brushed it off, saying to herself that she was only tired.

At last, the casket was lowered into the ground. It went slowly, too slowly for Clarisse. She could feel the tears stinging at her eyes the entire time. Pierre and Phillipe were her rock. They were all she had left. She could care less of everything. But she had a country that was depending on her to pick up the pieces. And pick up the pieces she would. Once she was healed herself, at least.

After what seemed like hours, only Clarisse remained. She told the boys she needed a few minutes alone to say goodbye privately. She knew Joseph was close by, close enough to keep a safe eye on her and still allow her privacy.

She kneeled down and ran a hand over the head stone. Water splashed against the granite so she brushed it away only to have two more drops splash against it. She was crying, she realized. It wasn't rain.

He was really gone. When she returned home, he wouldn't be there to smile at her and tell her it was another one of her crazy dreams and then to try and interpret it. She would miss him doing that. She would miss a lot about him. Like when he came back from a ride, he would always present her with a rose. When he would hold her hand while they went on walks after supper. When he would whisper jokes in her ear while they were at parties. When he would sneak up behind her and take a picture of her. She always told him she hated when he did that to her, but his actions had resulted in a well-worn photo album of their family. She would miss the little things about him.

Running a hand over the smooth surface one last time, she whispered, "Goodbye, my love."

*** **

*** **

'I remember the simple things

I remember till I cry

But the one thing I wish I'd forget

The memory I want to forget

Is goodbye'

*** **

*** **


	7. April 19, 2002

A/N: Songs used in this chapter are 'Walk Away' by Christina Aguilera from her album Stripped, and 'Welcome' by Christina Aguilera from her album Back to Basics Disc 2, 'Viva la Vida' by Coldplay from their album Death and All His Friends, and 'Umbrella' by Rihanna from her album Good Girl Gone Bad.

Well, this is it: the last chapter. Look for part three, Slide Show. Hopefully it will come soon. The "gang" is going on a trip this time. And if you like the Golden Girls, there is going to be a beloved, feisty character joining the gang.

Thank you to everybody that stayed with me for the long pause in between chapter 6 and 7. Sorry if you had to read the other chapters to remind yourself what was happening (I know I did). And double thanks to everybody that reviewed. It really brightens my day and encourages me to keep on writing.

*** **

*** **

"_Oh, there's a crash in turn two! Two cars collided!…"_

"I've met the most beautiful woman, Joe. Her name is Helen…"

"_No word yet if both drivers were injured in the collision…"_

"I'd like you to meet Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis…"

"_Paramedics and pit crews are on the scene…"_

"Why can't you just be happy for me? I love her…"

"_Race officials are unsure of what exactly caused the crash…"_

"She'll be sixteen in a few months…"

"_One driver was killed in the two car collision…"_

"I love you, mama…"

"_The driver was Prince Phillipe Renaldi…"_

"I love you, too, Phillipe…"

*** **

*** **

April 19, 2002 -- Clarisse's office

"Stop your pacing, Phillipe," Clarisse demanded of her son, a chuckle in her voice. "It's driving me insane."

"I'm bored," was her son's answer.

"Well then, go do something," she advised, turning her attention back to her work.

"I don't feel like it."

Clarisse laughed. "Then don't complain. Remind yourself that you could be back in America as you had planned getting ready for the race on Sunday. "

"I know but I wanted to visit you before the season gets very hectic. I want to keep my mind focused when qualifying for the Indianapolis 500 begins in May," Phillipe explained to his mother.

"And I appreciate it. I love spending time with you, but you don't have to drive me mad simply because you miss the race track," she informed him. Phillipe nodded his head and let his mother return to her work.

Phillipe sighed as he flopped himself down on the blue sofa. He glanced over at his mother. She was absorbed in her work, as was the usual sight lately. Ever since his father had contracted his illness, she had taken the title regent; she would have responsibility of the crown until Parliament gave the okay that Phillipe was ready to rule. Even though it had been Rupert's wish that she continue to rule as Queen regnant until her own death, Clarisse had turned that down to allow Phillipe his chance to rule the country he loved. Once Phillipe took the throne, she would become the Queen Mother.

She worked too much. He suspected it was to keep her mind off of his father's death. It had been eight months almost. While her clothing was still dark, she had moved out of the black phase. While he knew it was customary that she show Genovia she was still in mourning, albeit the last stages, he wished she would move back to her normal wardrobe as soon as possible. He didn't know how much longer he could handle seeing dark blues, purples, and greens.

Clarisse looked up when she felt her son's eyes on her. "Is something on your mind, Phillipe?"

"I was just thinking that I miss your normal wardrobe," he admitted, smiling over at her. She smiled back at him.

"I know and I am sick of wearing black as well," she agreed. "But you know the minute I attempt to wear something that's not depressing, Elsie Kentworthy has it plastered all over the front page and her dreadful morning program."

Phillipe only nodded. It seemed as though the woman's life mission was to tear apart the royal family limb by limb.

Clarisse glanced up at the sound of a knock at her door.

"Joe, how are you today?" Phillipe greeted, happy to see the man. Joseph had played a large role in his upbringing, often taking on the role of counselor to him and his brother. He was the first person to hear of Helen, although, his parents didn't know that. Joseph always treated Phillipe and Pierre as though they were part of his own family, never hesitating to congratulate them when they did something good or to scold them when they did something foolish. In private, at least. In public, Joseph was always very aware of his position. He was one of a kind and an excellent friend above all else.

"I'm doing just fine today," Joseph answered the young man. "How are you?"

Phillipe shrugged. "Can't complain."

"And yet he is," Clarisse piped in. "Perhaps Joseph can help."

Joseph looked back and forth between the two. "Help with what?"

Clarisse set her work aside. It was becoming obvious she wasn't going to accomplish much by the day's end.

"Find something for Phillipe to do. Apparently he's bored."

Joseph looked over at the lounging man. "How could you possibly be bored? It's a beautiful day filled with numerous chores."

Phillipe shrugged again.

"Well, if you're not busy in half an hour, I have some real work you can help with," Joseph half threatened, a smirk on his face. "I have to go down to the docks to pick up a shipment. You can unload it all."

"Because you're an old man now, right, Joe?" Phillipe teased. "Pushing sixty this year, aren't you?"

"Ha, ha," Joseph laughed dryly. "I can still do everything I used to."

"Of course you can." He tried to hide his smile but he couldn't help it. Especially not when Joe hit him with a small throw pillow.

Clarisse chuckled at the two. She never tired of the sound of her son's laughter. Phillipe and Joseph, as well as Pierre, had always been partners in crime since her boys were little. Joseph had taken a liking to the princes immediately upon his start at the palace thirty-four years ago. Back then, Clarisse had been worried at first because of her past history with the Spaniard. Her worries had quickly dissipated as with the passing of each day, an everlasting bond formed between the males with every second spent together.

"Mom, are you all right?" she heard from her left. She turned to see Phillipe looking at her strangely. "Where did you disappear to?"

"I was just thinking, that's all. What were you saying?"

"I'm going to go with Joe down to the docks. Joe was asking if there was anywhere you needed to go or anything you needed."

He was still looking at her strangely so she patted his cheek and smiled to assure him she was fine.

"No, there's nowhere I need to go right now and absolutely nothing I need," she answered Joseph's question, turning to look at him. "The only item on my agenda is to review this stack of papers."

"All right, then. We'll see you in a couple of hours." He kissed his mother's cheek. "I love you, mama."

She ruffled his unruly dark brown hair, smiling when he protested that. "I love you, too, Phillipe."

*** **

*** **

'You're riding on a shooting star

With a smile upon your face

But soon the shine fades

And you're left out all alone

Wondering where did they all go?'

*** **

*** **

'_It is a sad day in the Indy Racing League …'_

_*** **_

_*** **_

June 12, 2007 -- Palace Halls

"Charlotte, have you see grandma? She's not in her office."

Charlotte looked up from the week's schedule and glanced at her watch. "You should try the garden. She usually takes a walk this time of day," Charlotte offered.

Mia mentally slapped herself. She should have known. One thing she'd learned early on about her grandmother was how much she enjoyed the outdoors. She always took every spare minute that wasn't already promised to someone to enjoy the fresh air of Genovia and the sweet smell of her precious flowers.

After thanking Charlotte, Mia turned on her heel and headed for her grandmother's office. From that balcony most of the garden was visible, making it easier to find the older woman. There, by the small stream, Mia saw a figure by the roses. 'Stopping to smell the flowers,' Mia mused before practically running down the stairs.

She had only once asked about her father's death but immediately took it back before Clarisse could even open her mouth to answer. She thought she had been ready to hear about it then; obviously not. Now, however, she was ready. She needed to know what her father was like. And what happened the day he died.

Clarisse turned when she heard footsteps. She hadn't been expecting Mia, though. "Taking a break from the archives?" she said by way of greeting.

Mia smiled. "Yeah, it's getting kind of intense. I'm up to 2002."

If she saw Clarisse hesitate, she didn't show it. "That far already?"

Mia nodded. "I'm not reading absolutely everything, though. I figured I have time to go back and do that later. I'm just more curious about other things first."

Clarisse nodded but didn't say anything. Clarisse resumed her walk with Mia at her side. Despite the progress they had made in their relationship since their first meeting a few years ago, there were still topics Mia felt awkward talking about to her grandma. History that was obviously painful and personal was one of those topics.

"Grandma, do you remember when I asked you about when my dad died?" Mia started slowly, her words drawn out and deliberate. Clarisse only nodded and hummed softly. "Well, I want to hear about it now. And I don't want to read about it from the papers."

Clarisse came to a halt. Tell her about how her youngest son died? Could she tell Mia how she was ripped in two when Joseph brought her the tragic news that her precious baby boy had been in an accident during a race? Could she tell Mia how she had cried nonstop for two days and refused to speak to anyone? Could she tell Mia how she had forced herself to remain strong as she led her country to her son's burial?

She wasn't ready to do that. She would never be ready to do that.

"Mia, that was a particularly painful time in my life," Clarisse remembered solemnly. Her eyes had fallen to the brick pathway. "I lived it once and frankly I don't think I'll ever be able to speak of it aloud to anyone."

She turned to face her granddaughter but couldn't hide the emotion in her eyes. Mia tried to hide her disappointment but Clarisse could see it.

"I'm sorry, Mia, I know this is important to you.."

"No, grandma," Mia interrupted. "I understand. Maybe one day you'll be able to tell me all about him."

Clarisse took her hand. "Oh, Mia, I can tell you everything you want to know about him. Except for his death."

Mia met her grandma's eyes. She believed her; Clarisse was a woman of her word. Having never lost anyone particularly close to her, certainly not a son, Mia couldn't begin to imagine the pain her grandma had gone through at that stage of her life. First her husband had passed away then her son. Maybe her grandma was the wrong person to answer her questions. Maybe someone else held the answers she was looking for…

"Will you tell me all about him someday, then?" Mia asked shyly.

Clarisse smiled warmly at the young woman. "Of course. Anytime you want." She caught sight of her watch. "Except for now. I'll be late for Parliament if we don't get a move on."

*** **

*** **

Parliament was not a place Clarisse enjoyed spending time in. It was dull and the men were certainly not capable of scintillating conversation. Today was no different than any other day. Except today Clarisse allowed her mind to roam a little farther than normal…

*** **

*** **

April 19, 2002 -- Dining room

"So how was your trip with Joseph?" Clarisse asked Phillipe as she cut into her lamb.

"Excellent. The docks were bustling with activity today; I'd never noticed before." He took a sip of his water. "Hmm, I almost made Joe fall off the dock."

She looked up at him, question written all over her face. "What on Earth did you do? Is he all right?"

Phillipe waved it off, a grin on his face. "He's fine. Just a little joke. He got me back later when he made me stumble back into a pile of rope. You should be asking how I am instead," Phillipe realized, his tone teasing but his look showing hurt. Clarisse shook her head, returning to her meal.

"The two of you and your jokes, I'll never understand it."

"It's fun," he smiled at her. "Surely you must be used to it by now. We've been doing it for over twenty years."

"I'm used to it, yes, but I'll never understand why you two boys torture poor Joseph that way."

"As I recall, Joe started it all."

"As I recall, the two of you were always getting into mischief and Joseph was usually the focus of your pranks until he finally got you back. He is the only one that hasn't quit because of you and your brother's constant tricks."

"Well, anyway, now it's become tradition." He paused, his fork dangling in mid air. "You know, I've always wondered why you call him Joseph."

Clarisse raised her brow at him. "Because that's his name."

He chuckled. "No, I mean most everyone calls him Joe but only you call him Joseph. Why is that?"

"I don't know. I've always called him Joseph. It wouldn't feel right to call him anything else."

Phillipe nodded. That did make sense. Somehow the sound of the guard's nickname coming from his mom's mouth just wouldn't sound right.

"So," Clarisse started, taking control of the conversation, "have you heard any news from Helen about Amelia?"

Phillipe smiled, the mention of his daughter always brightening his day. "Yes, I have. She is doing wonderful in school, but she's struggling in her debate class."

"Not a born public speaker like us, is she?"

"No, she's not. But I recall grandma Renaldi telling me stories about your first attempts at public speaking," Phillipe mused.

"Never you mind about that," his mother warned looking up at him, a glint in her eyes. "I'm glad she's doing well in school. No boys are distracting her from her schoolwork, are they?"

"No, but Helen says there is one boy she's had a crush on ever since primary school. But she also says this boy isn't exactly who Amelia should be dating if that were to ever happen."

"The bad boy in school?"

He nodded. "Exactly. But I don't especially want to think about my daughter dating already. Now I know what you went through when Pierre and I came of age."

"No, it was worse with you boys," she revealed to him. "Amelia is shy so you won't have much of a problem once she starts dating. You boys, once you had your sights set on a girl, she became your entire world. Every time Joseph came into my office, I was so afraid there was going to be an angry family behind him because of your attentions on the poor girl."

"We wouldn't have done that to you," Phillipe assured her. "You and dad taught us to be more respectful than that."

"I should certainly hope so. Oh, the two of you were simply average male teenagers. You were no different than my brothers when they were your age."

Phillipe chuckled. He had heard tales of the charming Gerard brothers when they were teenagers. They'd been hell raisers, much like him and his own brother, but now they had settled down with families of their own.

Mother and son were silent for a while, both taking time to enjoy their meals. It wasn't often Phillipe was home in Genovia to enjoy a quiet supper with only his mother. With Pierre away from home studying with the church and his father dead, he was all she had left. Sure, Pierre came home every now and then, more so when their father passed on, but only Phillipe was there on a fairly constant basis. However, his mother had Charlotte and Joseph to keep her company; they were certainly her closest friends.

She was slowly morphing back into the mother he knew before his father died. She was slowly wearing brighter colors in the presence of friends and family. And she smiled more and laughed more, not as frequent as in the past but enough to tell Phillipe that she was ready to move on with her life.

His father's death had made a large impact on him as well. He realized just how short life could actually be. No one had expected his father to die, not as soon as he did. He had always been an active person. He had tried to keep his stress to a minimum. And when he had fallen ill, everyone expected him to bounce right back in a week or so. No one thought he'd land in the hospital. No one thought he'd take a turn for the worse… Phillipe had realized how he couldn't take anything for granted. And he certainly didn't want to miss anymore of his daughter's life.

"She'll be sixteen in a few months," Phillipe spoke softly, coming out of his thoughts. He looked up to meet his mother's eyes. "I do hope you'll meet again some day."

"Some day we will, Phillipe," she assured. "Her eighteenth birthday isn't that far off."

"I suppose, but I don't know if I can wait that long. I've already missed the first fifteen years of her life. Will she even want to meet me once she turns eighteen? Will she be impressed that her father drives race cars for a hobby?"

"Of course she will," Clarisse assured her forlorn son. "I'll bet she's been wondering about you all these years, wanting to meet you."

He looked up, "You think so?"

"I know so," she smiled at him. "But you must remember, Phillipe, that it'll take time for trust to develop and for a father/daughter bond to form."

"I know but frankly that doesn't concern me right now," he admitted. "I just want to know my daughter."

Clarisse nodded her understanding. She couldn't share sympathies. To be frank, she hadn't made a mistake like he had. She wasn't mad at him for his mistake; not anymore, but he certainly hadn't been aware of the sacrifices that had to be made as a result of said mistake. Although, she did understood what could happen when love took over one's life unexpectedly.

"So are you joining Joseph and I for our weekly movie and game night?" Clarisse questioned, changing the subject to a happier one.

Phillipe smiled. The weekly movie and combined game night was a fairly new addition to his mother's hectic schedule. Charlotte and Joseph had thought it up as a way for his mother to "unwind," as they had put it, after a busy week. Mostly, it was Joseph that joined her to watch whatever movie she had picked out and play whatever game he picked out. Occasionally he joined her when the movie was one he wanted to see, as did Charlotte, though she joined more frequently than he.

"No, I think I'll turn in early tonight. My flight is early in the morning," he expressed with a dreamy look on his face. "I'm anxious to return to racing."

*** **

*** **

June 12, 2007 -- Security office

"Hello, Miss Mia, what can I do for you today?" Joseph greeted the teenager when she entered his office. His attention was focused solely on the computer in front of him, making final adjustments to the detailed security plan for the queen's upcoming trip.

"Hey, Joe. Are you busy right now?"

"For you, Miss Mia, I have all the time in the world."

Mia smirked. "Joe, you're such a liar."

He only chuckled. "What's on your mind today?"

"Joe," she paused to gauge her courage, "what happened the day my dad died?"

Joseph paused in the middle of typing a sentence and looked up at her. He knew she had asked Clarisse this question before but had backed out of it before Clarisse could answer her. Of course, he knew that Clarisse wouldn't have answered; he knew how painful it still was for her. She still had trouble on the anniversary of his death every year.

"She wouldn't answer you, would she?" he took a guess. He wanted to make sure she was ready to hear it all.

Mia slowly shook her head. "No, but then I realized that you probably know all of the details as well and I was hoping that you wouldn't mind telling me about it." She finished her sentence softly, suddenly shy as she began to fear he wouldn't answer her inquires.

Joseph exhaled slowly, her request weighing heavily on him. She had a right to know; he was her father after all. While Joseph did know all of the details, he didn't want her to have to hear it. He also didn't want her to go looking for the television footage of the event.

"Please, Joe?" he heard Mia say, an urgency in her voice. She was afraid he was going to say no. He wanted to, but if it would bring her closure…

"Where's your grandmother?" he asked, wanting to assure that the older woman wouldn't accidentally overhear the details of that horrid night.

"In Parliament and then Charlotte told me she has a meeting with the Prime Minister."

He nodded and motioned to a chair that was nearby. "Shut the door and get comfortable then. It was a long week."

Mia did as she was told and sat in the straight-backed chair he had motioned to. He made the final adjustments to his program and saved it.

"Where do you want me to start?" He sounded so clinical as he gathered his freshly printed pages and turned off the computer.

"Um, I guess before you found out he died," Mia timidly replied. She'd never thought about that before. "How was he killed? Why did he decide to take up racing as a hobby?"

"He was at supper with your grandmother two days before the accident. He had decided not to join her in watching the weekly movie," Joseph remembered with ease. He leaned back in his chair as his mind transferred him to a different time. "He had decided to turn into to bed early that evening instead. He had an early flight the next morning to return to America to resuming practicing for the next race. Your grandmother and I had been playing a game that night when I received the news. I never expected for John, the guard on watch at the time and a good friend of the prince's, to come to me with such horrible news…"

*** **

*** **

April 21, 2002 -- Royal Family Great Room -- 22.50

"Are you worried about Phillipe?" Joseph noticed as he set up the game he had chosen for that night.

Clarisse rearranged the chairs to her liking and said, "Of course. You know how nervous I get when he's in a race. It's so nerve wrecking."

"Yes, it is, but it's what he wants to do," Joseph told her, moving around the arrangement of chairs. "But you just have to remember that he's not going to do anything to harm himself."

"I know, and I want him to do what makes him happy. It was Rupert that always hated his racing."

She settled into her chair as he opened up the game board.

"Where's Charlotte this evening? She usually joins us," Clarisse said about her absent aide. While Charlotte didn't join them every time, she usually enjoyed playing games with her superiors. In Clarisse's view, it brought them all closer together.

"Last I saw her, she was in your office finishing mail correspondence," Joseph relayed.

Clarisse shook her head. "I told her she didn't have to do that. She could use a break every now and then."

"She enjoys her work and she's good at it. Besides, how long has it been since we played a game together? Just the two of us?"

Clarisse looked up in thought. "About two days."

He smirked at her while she laughed gently. "Ha, ha. You're a riot." He sat in the chair next to her and they settled in as he placed the first word down.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

23.26

Joseph had just laid down his word when Clarisse said, "That is not a word."

He looked up. "Yes, it is," he argued. It was a common occurrence when they played Scrabble, accusing the other of making up words. That was why they often had someone else to watch over the game or often referred to the dictionary they usually kept on hand. This was not one of those times.

"No, it's not," she laughed. "Use it in a sentence."

"All right. Um, I …can't," he admitted. He held up a finger. "I still say it's a word, though."

"It is not, you cheater," she laughed at him as she arranged her tiles.

"Like you know all the words there are?"

"Well, no, but I know a made up word when I see one," she teased with a smile on her face.

"Let's see what you come up with, your Majesty," Joseph said. She knew he was just teasing her by the tone of his voice.

She looked down at her tiles again. "All right, give me a minute."

As she arranged and rearranged her tiles, Joseph saw John standing in the doorframe. John motioned for his boss to exit the room so they could speak privately. Joseph took notice of the expression on the young man's face. It occurred to him in the back of his mind that he had seen that look somewhere before.

He turned towards Clarisse as he started to rise. "Excuse me for a moment."

She turned her head and saw John standing there. The latter smiled and nodded at the queen and the former returned the gesture.

"All right. Send Charlotte back if you find her. At least she plays fair," the queen teased.

Joseph only smiled. "I will, but I'll tell her to cheat just because I know it annoys you."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

23.53

Joseph stood dead still outside her door. He couldn't bring himself to raise his fist and knock. The guards probably wondered why he was there. The only people to come to her door past ten were her lady's maids, her sons, or Charlotte. Gossip would undoubtedly be started tomorrow.

At least until everyone heard the news.

Right now, the one person who would be greatly affected by the news needed to be told first.

If only he could raise his fist to knock.

"Joe," a voice startled him from behind, "she needs to be told."

"In a moment, Charlotte. I need to gather my nerve first."

"Do you want me to go in with you?"

"No, I need to tell her myself. Are you sure she's still awake?"

"Yes, we ended our game less than fifteen minutes ago," Charlotte assured him. He heard her hesitate before asking her next question. "Are you sure it was him?"

Joseph turned his head to the floor. Was he sure? Was he sure that a man would no longer get to enjoy life in its fullest? Was he sure that a man would never get to fulfill his dream of winning the biggest auto-racing event in history? Was he sure that a man who was like a son to him would no longer be coming home to tease his mother? Was he sure that a man would no longer have the opportunity to meet his daughter? He was sure. He was regrettably sure.

"Yes, I'm sure." He raised his fist and Charlotte chose then to walk away. He was right; she needed to hear it from him, someone she trusted above all others.

Slowly, as if in a dream, Joseph heard the sound of his knock echo in his head. It sounded like a bass drum pounding away in time with the rhythm of his pounding heart. Time seemed to slow to a halt as he waited for her to answer his call. His fists curled in as he waited, as though if he clenched them hard enough he would wake from the dream he was in. 'Please let this all be a dream,' he thought to himself as he clenched his eyes shut. 'Let this all just be some horrible dream.'

His eyes snapped opened when he heard the latch release from the door frame. A quizzical face stared back at him as Clarisse took in who her visitor was.

"Joseph?"

"I need to speak with you about something. It's rather urgent," he spoke quietly.

She continued to stare at him quizzically but let him enter. She shut the door softly and turned to look at him again. "What's wrong?" she wondered.

He rubbed his palms together, suddenly nervous. He swallowed a few times to moisten his now dry mouth. He looked around the room, everywhere but at her.

"Why don't you have a seat?" He gestured a loveseat next to him. He managed to look up at her and for a moment he was afraid she was going to fight with him. She was dressed for bed; she had on her blue robe and matching slippers.

After a staring match, she slowly walked over to where he gestured. "Joseph, what's wrong?" she asked while she sat. He took a seat next to her and rubbed his palms against his black pants. He was sweating, he noticed. He wondered if she noticed it to.

He wasn't looking at her again, she noticed. Finally she reached over and took his hands.

"Joseph, are you all right?" she asked. She pressed a hand to the back of his forehead. No fever, so why was he acting so strange?

He removed her hand from his head and clasped it tightly in his. His eyes remained on their clasped hands as he spoke softly, "There's been an accident, Clarisse."

"Pierre? Phillipe?" she immediately questioned.

He nodded. "Phillipe. His race car was in a collision with another car a few hours ago."

She started to rise but he pulled her back down. Her anxious eyes met his as she argued, "Joseph, I have to go to him."

He only shook his head. "He didn't make it, Clarisse."

Her face turned to one of horror as her jaw dropped open. "No, you're lying." He only shook his head again. Tears began to fill her eyes. "Joseph, please tell me you're lying," she whispered.

He looked up to met her eyes and she noticed his were filled with tears as well. "I'm so sorry, Clarisse," he whispered, his voice unable to speak any louder. She tried to wretch her hands free but he wouldn't let her lose contact. He was afraid of what she might do.

His heart broke as she began to cry. He was vaguely aware of the moisture on his own cheeks.

"Joseph, you have to be lying. This has to be a dream. My baby's fine. Please tell me he's fine. He's just finished his race, hasn't he? He's fine; he placed well," Clarisse babbled on as she continued to try and free her hands.

"He didn't, Clarisse. And this is not a dream, though I desperately wish it was a dream. His pit crew and security team confirmed it with me over the phone a short while ago," he told her softly. The last thing she needed was him yelling at her to try and get through.

When she was unable to free her hands, she rested her head against his chest. He felt her tears soak his shirt but he didn't care. She needed the release. Maybe one day he would tell her that after hearing the news himself, he had rushed back to his room and gotten sick.

*** **

*** **

'It seems I'll never wake up from this nightmare

I let out a silent prayer

Let it be over, over, over

Inside I'm screaming

Begging, pleading

No more'

*** **

*** **

April 24, 2002 -- West Room -- 07.19

Clarisse ran her right hand over the mahogany casket. She felt her heart constrict as her breath caught in her throat. Her other hand came up to her mouth to try and stifle her sobs waiting to escape.

She was unaware of those behind her: Joseph, Charlotte, Pierre, her brothers, Sebastian, and members of the Royal Guard. She was solely focused on trying to get through that day.

Her baby was gone and she never got the chance to tell him goodbye. There were still things she wanted to tell him. Did he know how proud she was of him? Did he know how wonderful a person he was?

Richard, her older brother, came up behind her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Clarisse's hand slid off the casket and fisted at her side. Her left hand reached shakily for Richard as she allowed him to guide her from the room.

Eight Royal Guards stepped up to take their places beside the casket. On a count of three, they all lifted it off of its catafalque. They waited for the queen and her family to exit the room before slowly carrying it out of the palace and hoisting it onto the horse-drawn caisson.

With Pierre at her side, holding her upright though no one could tell, mother and son began the march to the cathedral where Phillipe would lie until he was to be buried.

Unlike at Rupert's funeral, the heavens had decided to shine down on them that day with nay a cloud in sight. The sun beat down on the citizens of Genovia as they all lined up to catch a glimpse of the procession. Most were fanning themselves but Clarisse was too numb to notice that she was even moving forward.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Thousands lined up in the heat to get their chance to pay their respects to the prince. They were informed that morning that the doors to the cathedral would close at 20.00. It was now 21.40. Security still couldn't see the end to the line. They had seen numerous people come up to the casket crying, several with roses to place at the base of the bier.

Mourning had come to cover the citizens of Genovia once again.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Clarisse stared blankly ahead as Charlotte sat down near her. She was vaguely aware that Charlotte was trading places with Pierre who had traded places with Richard who had traded places with her younger brother Max. Why they were watching her, she had no idea. She did know that her guests felt awkward in her presence, if the desperate silence in the air was any indication. No matter; she had been silent since returning from the cathedral almost twelve hours ago.

Her life felt empty. She had lost her husband and her youngest son in less than a year. Pierre was all she had left from the family she had created. It saddened her as she remembered how infrequently he was able to come home for visits. Her own brothers lived in the States and had lives of their own. She only saw them on Easter and Christmas. She had very few close confidants. The closest people to her that she saw on a daily basis were Joseph and Charlotte. 'I suppose it's only a matter of time before they leave me as well,' Clarisse thought to herself.

"Your Majesty?" she heard Charlotte's timid voice from her left. "Is there anything I can get you? Would you like some tea?"

For the first time in hours, Clarisse turned her head downwards. She didn't answer Charlotte. Instead, she asked her a question. "Was there something I did in my life that was so horrible to have my husband and son taken from me?"

Charlotte felt her heart beat to a stop for a split second. Never had she heard the queen ask her such a profound question. She usually saved that for Joseph.

"Uh..Ma'am?"

Her voice was scratchy from hours of silence but she continued, "I tried to do everything I was told to do to ensure a better life for myself, for my country. Was there a wrong turn I made somewhere in my youth? Did I not love my husband enough? Was I not a good enough queen or mother? Was I not a good enough wife? Should I not have sat passively by as Rupert discovered the loophole in the laws that forced Phillipe to divorce? Is my loss punishment for the indiscretion I took too far?"

Charlotte said nothing. Indiscretion? She wondered if Clarisse knew what she had just revealed to her. If Charlotte was a different type of person, the knowledge of such a thing could destroy the queen. It was a good thing she thought of Clarisse as a second mother to her. In her eyes, she could do no wrong. Half of her brain was telling her to find a way to get Clarisse to stop talking. The other half wanted to know more about the Clarisse no one knew.

"Did I do the wrong thing? Make the wrong decision? Would things have turned out differently if I had followed my heart instead of my duty?"

Charlotte choose then to intervene. "If you had done things differently, it's more than likely that Prince Phillipe would never have existed in the first place. It would save you the heartache you are currently experiencing but you wouldn't have years of wonderful memories with your son," Charlotte said softly, choosing her words wisely.

Clarisse turned her gaze to the window next to her. It was pitch black out but that didn't matter. Rain was on the forecast for the following day. Somehow it seemed fitting.

"You didn't do anything wrong, your Majesty," Charlotte continued, hoping to reassure the other woman. "You are a terrific mother. My mother told me once that sometimes our loved ones are taken away from us so we can realize just how important others are to us."

Clarisse sniffled. "Well, it's a horrible way to realize it."

Charlotte nodded though Clarisse didn't see it. She was focused on staring out the window again. 'Oh, well. At least she finally spoke,' Charlotte mused. She heard the latch on the door give and someone walk in. It was too early for the next person to take their place on guard. Joseph and Richard had suggested the constant watch over Clarisse, saying it would be wise to keep an eye on her state of mind. One woman could only handle so much devastation.

She turned her head and saw Joseph enter the room. He was wearing his morning dress; it was almost time for his rotation to stand vigil over the deceased prince. She stood as he stepped further into the room. He stopped her when she was next to him and whispered, "Wait just outside."

She nodded and made a swift exit. If anyone could bring the queen out of her funk, albeit for a short while, it would be Joseph. He had been busy with preparations for the next day and hardly had had a moment to spare. He had been greatly concerned with Clarisse's state of mind. She hardly spoke to anyone. She'd hardly slept since finding out the news. She wasn't eating, not until Pierre and he had seen to it that she finish at least half of her breakfast that morning. He wasn't worried that she would kill herself, but she wasn't exactly taking care of herself.

He sat down slowly on the ottoman in front of her. Her eyes were still focused on the darkness outside but she was aware of his presence. She held out her hand and he readily accepted it. Her fingers melded with his tightly when his other hand came up to cover hers.

"Your hand is freezing, Clarisse," he admonished. "How long have you been sitting here?"

Despite the extremely late hour, she was still dressed in her attire from earlier in the day. Only her shoes had been removed.

Naturally she didn't answer, though he didn't exactly expect her to. Instead he rubbed his hands back and forth over hers to try and warm her. He took in her appearance. Her eyes were dark and reddened from her tears. Her body was limp in her seat. He could have sworn she had lost some weight.

"Clarisse, you need to sleep," he murmured to her. "Would you like me to fetch the doctor for you? I'm sure he has something that will help you sleep."

She remained motionless.

"You have to sleep and it's obvious that you aren't going to do so without the aide of a pharmaceutical."

Slowly, she brought her eyes to his. Her grip on his hand tightened as she said, "Will you take me to the cathedral? I want to see him one last time tonight."

"Of course I'll take you. I was just headed over there to stand vigil."

"I'd forgotten about that. Are my brothers going as well?"

"Yes, and Pierre. Charlotte will be here to stay with you until we get back. Or Pierre or I could stay with you if you want. Just say the word, Clarisse."

Slowly she stood from the oversized chair. She was a bit shaky on her legs so Joseph stood quickly to help support her.

"I just want to go to the cathedral," she repeated as if she hadn't already asked him. He helped her find her shoes and put them on. He quickly fetched her a light jacket and helped her put that on before offering her his arm. She accepted it but didn't move from her spot.

"One step at a time, Clarisse," she heard Joseph tell her. He had told her that once before, when Rupert died.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The people had their eyes focused on their queen as she walked in slowly on the arms of her Head of Security and her son. Her brothers were behind them with a lagging Charlotte. Like the Red Sea, the people parted to make way for their sovereign. They could all see the toll her son's sudden death had taken on her. Her coloring was white, more so than normal, and it was obvious that she was being held up by her son and Joseph, unable to grasp the concept of one foot in front of the other.

Joseph turned his head halfway down the aisle and cocked his head to motion for Charlotte to walk beside him. She would be the only one available to keep a close eye on Clarisse while he was standing vigil along with Pierre, Richard, and Max. Other security members were in the cathedral but most had never even spoken to the queen. It was only a twenty minute vigil but he doubted she would leave the cathedral in that amount of time. Earlier she had sat in a pew for over an hour, Pierre next to her to hold her hand and give her strength.

He leaned his head close to Charlotte so she was the only one to hear. "We'll only be twenty minutes. I want you to stay with her. The people are exiting to the left so we'll let her rest in a pew on the right side. Has she spoken to you today?"

Charlotte nodded. "Briefly. I don't know that she was aware she was speaking to me, though." He gave her an odd look. "Some of the things she said…I don't think she would have said them if she knew it was me she was speaking to. I'll tell you about it later."

"No, just keep it to yourself. If she wasn't aware of who she was speaking to, then she probably wasn't aware of what she was saying at the time."

"No, I'm fairly sure she was aware of what she was revealing but I won't betray her confidence," Charlotte assured him. Joseph nodded; he knew she wouldn't. In front of them, the four guards standing at attention around Phillipe's casket were waiting for the signal to begin the changing of the guard. Pierre caught the attention of the Captain of the Royal Company of Archers and nodded his go ahead.

Joseph and Pierre escorted Clarisse up to the casket while Richard and Max took their posts. Charlotte hung back out of their way.

Clarisse ran her hand over the mahogany casket once again as she had earlier in the day. The flag of Genovia adorned it. She ran her hand over the fabric, savoring the silky feel of it. Her baby would never get to experience being king of his beloved country. He would never get to make the changes he was so adamant about. He would never get to see his darling daughter again. Amelia would never get to know what a wonderful man her father was.

When she turned her gaze to the floor, that was Pierre's cue to get his mother away from there. It would do her no good to relive every moment and remember every regret. "Come on, mom. Let's go over here for a while."

He and Joseph guided her over to a pew on the right hand side of the altar. Pierre sat down beside her. "Would you like to go home, mom? I know you haven't slept in a while; you need your rest."

"No, I want to stay here," she spoke to her son for the first time in days. "I'll stay until you're done."

"Are you sure?" Pierre looked over at Joseph. The older man shook his head. They both had her best intentions at heart but she would be too stubborn to listen. Besides, who were they to deny her final moments with her baby boy?

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Charlotte will be here with you," Joseph stepped in. "She has orders to take you home the minute you look as though you can't handle anymore."

Clarisse squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Joseph, but I'll be fine."

He nodded and slowly he and Pierre left her side and took their places by the bier that held Phillipe. Pierre stood guard over his brother's casket in what the press had renamed the Vigil of the Prince. It was as it had been while the king was lying in state, his two sons standing guard over him. Only this time there was only one prince to stand vigil over the casket of his kin.

Charlotte took her seat next to Clarisse and took note of the time. 22.00. She hadn't slept in twenty hours. The queen hadn't slept in two days.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Pierre kissed his mother good night before watching Joseph escort her down the hallway to her suite. Her composure had been tested at the cathedral tonight, just as it would be tomorrow. She was trying to be so strong when she was hurting so badly. He admired her for keeping her chin held high, but he wondered when she was going to learn that she didn't always need to be the queen that let nothing faze her. Her country could see she was hurting but she was trying hard not to let it show.

Joseph closed the door to Clarisse's suite behind them and helped her remove her jacket. She was still in a daze but she was communicating more. He watched her move about her room, ultimately picking up a framed family photo. She had been looking at it for the last two days, running her fingers over the images of her broken family. Joseph kept his distance as she reminisced happier times in her life. The photo she was looking at was from when Phillipe had been brought home from the hospital. The smiling mother was holding her newborn son safely in her arms, Pierre next to his mother in the arms of his delighted father. Clarisse's assistant at the time had insisted on taking the photo, saying it would bring them years of happiness as they looked back on their lives. It had brought her years of happiness, but now he was afraid it would only bring her sadness.

"How could this happen, Joseph?" she whispered. "He was just here with me a few days ago."

Slowly he approached her from behind and placed a hand on her shoulder. "We all knew there were risks involved when he began racing," he reminded her. "I don't think any of us ever imagined anything bad would happen to him."

She set the photograph down and wrapped her arms around herself. She always felt cold lately.

"Am I being punished for something? Does God find it funny to take away first my husband and then my son?" Clarisse continued to ramble on.

"You are not being punished for anything," Joseph assured her. But beyond that he couldn't find any words that would ease her mind. Her shoulder began to shake under his hand and he knew she was trying to be strong by not showing her tears in front of him. Considering when they were teenagers they had gone for a swim in the lake and been naked at the time, tears were hardly something for him to shy away from.

He turned her and pulled her into his arms. It took no coaxing from her; she fit perfectly in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder as her arms wrapped securely around his middle. Her body shook from the tears that wet his jacket. He didn't care. He only wished there was some way he could take away her pain.

"I believe that God doesn't take away out loved ones from us to be funny but so other wonderful things can happen," he whispered in her ear. "So we can realize that some good can come from something bad."

"What good can come from the death of my baby boy?" she murmured against his shoulder.

"Better safety precautions so the same accident won't happen or be as severe next time; that way another fear wrought mother won't have to live through the pain you're feeling," he suggested.

He was right, she realized. But why did that have to come at such a price? Her shoulders shuddered as she inhaled a shaky breath.

"Do you think you can sleep now? The doctor gave me some ingredients for an herbal tea and he also gave me some sleeping pills if you wish to take that," Joseph recited to Clarisse, even though he knew she would never take the pills unless absolutely forced. He rubbed her back soothingly, holding her tightly.

"I can't sleep because when I wake up, all of this won't just be a horrible nightmare," Clarisse whispered against his shoulder, her voice constricting through her tears. He rested his head against hers and swayed their bodies back and forth.

"It'll be just fine, Clarisse. We'll get through this one day at a time. But you have to remember that Pierre needs you, as does your country."

"I want him back, Joseph. I just want him back."

*** **

*** **

'One minute I held the key

Next the walls were closed on me

And I discovered that my castles stand

Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand'

*** **

*** **

June 12, 2007 -- Security Office

"There were representatives from over eighty countries present at the funeral," Joseph remembered, coming back to the present. "A Requiem Mass was held and there was a private burial for family only. Of course being security, I was there. I remember the people were lined up for miles along the route to Crown Hill. He had a twenty-one gun salute just as his father did."

"Did the people really like him?" Mia interrupted. "I mean, since he was only the prince."

"Oh, yes. People loved him. He was often out and about mingling with the people. He loved to go to local sporting events and meet new people. While the brunt of the work fell on your grandmother's shoulders and she was too busy for much else, he would make sure the people always had an ear that would listen."

"Wow, he sounds like he was a pretty cool guy," Mia commented, her eyes tearing up at the reminder that she would never get to know her dad.

Joseph looked at her for a moment. He knew what it was like to grow up without a father, to wonder what he was like but never really knowing. Was he a good man or a bad one? Did he not want to know his child? It hurt deeply; there was no one there to teach certain things or to share adventures with. He was glad, though, that he was able to give Mia the chance of at least telling her what a wonderful man her father was.

"What happened to the other guy?"

"He wanted to leave the league but your grandmother convinced him not to."

"What?" Mia didn't believe she had heard right. She didn't blame the other driver but she didn't think she could keep on driving if she had killed someone.

"Well, she told him not to but he removed himself from the series anyway. Your grandmother didn't want him to give up something he loved. But the man blamed himself despite remembering that he and the prince knew the risks involved."

"But grandma didn't even like racing," Mia pointed out the obvious.

Joseph chuckled. "No, she didn't. But she supported your father, and his friends he made in the series, because it was something he loved to do. She now actually sponsors one of your father's friends, Tony Kanaan. At the time, he had just started out. Now he's a top contender in the series."

"Grandma actually sponsors someone? I keep learning more and more about her every day," she muttered to herself. The side bit of information had lightened the mood tremendously but Joseph had one final thing to say.

He cleared his throat before saying, "He loved racing, Mia, and he loved being prince but he loved you too. His last day in Genovia, he told your grandmother that he was ready to meet you, that he couldn't wait until you turned eighteen. You were always on his mind. He would be incredibly proud of you. I know he would."

Mia sniffled. "Thanks, Joe."

*** **

*** **

August 4, 2002 -- Crown Hill Cemetery

Clarisse murmured a thanks as Joseph opened the car door for her. She accepted his outstretched hand and slowly exited the vehicle. She cast her eyes upwards. The sky was gray, clouds heavy with rain hanging over them. The weather forecast had falsely been predicting rain all week. Looked as though for once they were right. It seemed fitting for the way her heart was feeling.

"I won't be long," she told the man beside her.

He gave her hand a light squeeze. "Take as long as you need."

She nodded, still trying to gather her nerve to encourage her legs to move forward. Her baby should have been thirty-eight today. He should have been king of his country someday. He should have been reintroduced to his daughter.

Instead she was visiting his grave.

With a slow inhale of air, slowly Clarisse Renaldi stepped forward. The ground was dry and hard, difficult terrain when one was wearing high heels. But she paid no attention to it. She had her eyes focused on the marker for her son's grave. Unlike Rupert's, Phillipe's marker was in ground instead of above it. Phillipe was a simple man so Clarisse had chosen a simple marker for his grave.

She knelt in front of the stone and ran her hand over the broken sword in the middle of it.

"Hello, Phillipe," she spoke softly. "I miss you terribly, but I'm managing. I've meet Amelia again. She's lovely, Phillipe. She reminds me so much of you and somewhat of myself. She has your features and she's clumsy like I used to be but she has the will and determination of a princess. I believe that once she gains her father's confidence, she will excel in life. She's accepted her role as heir to the throne. She needs some guidance but I believe she'll do a splendid job when her time comes."

A rumble of thunder made its presence known a few miles away but Clarisse paid no mind to it.

"I hope you were happy, Phillipe. They told me you had been leading quite a few laps when it happened, that it was possible you could have won the race," Clarisse recalled with pride. She had hated the sport but she would always support her sons wherever their ventures took them. "I was always proud of you. I hope you knew that."

She felt a drop of water fall on her head, followed by another and another onto the surface of the tombstone. She wiped them off only to have them be replaced with more. She looked over at Rupert's grave, a sad smile coming over her face.

"Take care of each other," she whispered. With one final touch over Phillipe's name, slowly she stood but she didn't move. Not even when the rain began to pour down in a steady stream from the clouds.

She didn't bother to turn her head when she heard Joseph walk up next to her. It didn't bother her that she was getting wet. It had been years since she simply stood in the rain. Being queen didn't allow her such simple pleasures.

When the rain above her head stopped, she looked up to find an umbrella protecting her. She looked over at Joseph to find him looking straight ahead.

"Would you like to go back?" he questioned. The rain sounded loud above their heads as it pounded on the umbrella. More thunder rumbled but it was closer this time.

Clarisse shook her head and looked down at the graves again. She wasn't quite ready to return home yet. She wasn't ready to let go of her past. But somehow she knew her future wouldn't be as horrible as she had originally thought. After all, she had her granddaughter to spoil.

And just as she had for the last forty years, she had Joseph to remain by her side.

"Stand with me a while, Joseph."

"Always, Clarisse. Always."

*** **

*** **

'When the sun shines, we'll shine together

Told you I'll be here forever

Said I'll always be your friend

Took an oath, Imma stick it out till the end

Now that it's raining more than ever

Know that we'll still have each other

You can stand under my umbrella

You can stand under my umbrella'

*** **

*** **

End

I took a chance making him a race car driver. I was inspired while at the Indy 500 just a few weeks ago. Living in Indy, I couldn't help but become a fan. And if it's not obvious Tony Kanaan is my favorite driver.


End file.
